


Galatsadi

by LittleMouse



Series: Galatsadi [1]
Category: Chronicles of Riddick (2004), Chronicles of Riddick Series
Genre: AU after Movie, Anal Sex, Light Bondage, M/M, Non Consensual, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-26
Packaged: 2017-11-21 00:45:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 22,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/591524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleMouse/pseuds/LittleMouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vaako runs; Riddick follows. Wulia plots. A small, sun-drenched planet holds the key to Vaako’s past, Riddick has to get rid of a certain loyal-to-the-death army, and the Lady doesn't make life easy for either of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is not a sequel to 'Right Hand'. This is a whole different story.  
> I did leave Dame Vaako's name the same as I am lazy that way.  
> The language used in this story for Vaako's homeworld is my crippled attempt at Cherokee. There will be a list of terms at the end of each applicable chapter. My grandmother used to speak it to me when I was small, but I can't find anything beyond a pronunciation guide. There is no spelling guide that I can discover.  
> This story is Complete but I am once again editing chapters as I go.

He wanted out.

He wanted out, away, to run as far and as fast as he could until his entire life was only a faint dot in the distance.

And if he was going to do it, he needed to do it now.

Vaako left the Great Hall behind him, moving swiftly toward the quarters he shared with his wife. His hearing was better than any other Necromonger aboard this spacecraft; he had heard the howl she had given when Riddick killed the Lord Marshal.

And he had heard the flutter of her skirts as she rushed down the stairs, the honey in her voice as she proclaimed her own allegiance to Riddick.

He didn’t need a flashing sign to tell him his days were numbered. If Riddick didn’t kill him, then Wulia would stab him in his sleep, clearing her way to becoming Wife to the Lord Marshall, Queen of the Necromongers. It was what she had always wanted.

He wasn’t a coward, it wasn’t fear of death that was making him run. If that was all he was worried about, he would stay and face his punishment. But the death of Lord Zhylaw had woken something in him, something that had been pushed down and strangled since he had been Converted.

An old and forgotten longing...

He reached his chambers and bolted the doors behind him, going straight to the ornate dresser and jerking the drawers out. Where was it? Where...

Ah.

A small, battered box tumbled out of one drawer, slipping free from the thin garment wrapped around it. Vaako picked it up in hands that trembled slightly, gripped it hard for a long moment.

“Galatsadi...” he whispered, the word faint and musical in the still air around him.

He jerked sharply, pulling his mind back to the moment. The box was shoved inside his armor, hidden from sight. He scooped together some valuables that would bring a pretty price in any spaceport - the ornate bracelets he wore for Court and some of the sparkling jewels he’d given Wulia.

Riddick would give her better ones.

Opening a closet, he pulled out an old black case he usually carried to meetings and upended it, spilling papers and small datapads all over the floor. Once it was empty, he set it on the bed and stuffed a few of his plainest clothes and the gathered valuables into it.

Once that was done, he turned to the huge black desk and grabbed three messagepads, quickly tapping out short missives. One to Riddick, formally resigning his position as First Among Commanders, one to Commander Heliz, the man directly under him, informing him of his resignation and a few duties that had to be taken care of, and the last to Wulia.

Telling her he was leaving.

He lay that one neatly on the desk, its red light flashing, and pulled off the Torian, the marriage necklace he’d worn since Wulia had accepted him as her Husband. It had her personal symbol on it, and removing it was just as good as going before the Purifyer and getting a formal divorce. He lay it in a shiny little heap just below the blinking light. The other two messagepads he closed, addressed, and dropped into the slot outside his door as he left.

 

 

*

 

 

Escaping the ship was ridiculously easy. If he’d still been First of Commanders, and discovered  _how_  easy it was, heads would have rolled. As it was, he was grateful for the snoozing sentry and the guards distracted by the mediascreens showing the fight between Riddick and Zhylaw. There was a small supply ship docked against the huge MotherShip, a scruffy looking Necromonger Captain unloading some boxes.

Vaako had taken his hair out of the braids as he’d hurried through the empty halls, and removed any trace of insignia from his armor, leaving him as unmarked as a lowly Private. He had known this ship would be here, knew where it was going, and had a messagepad - signed by himself - ordering Private Marx to join it on its next supply run.

Usually, they just took what they needed from the planets they conquered, but with so many Necromongers, there was always the need for more. Also, not every planet had everything they needed; hence, this small ship and a dozen others like it, that planet-hopped without insignia and with its crew in unmarked armor, so as not to announce their presence.

Very handy information - he was one of the few Necromongers that knew about this little fleet. Zhylaw had felt no need to announce its existence to the entire army. He wanted them to think that their battles totally supported their race. It was better for moral, he’d always told his Commanders.

For once, Vaako was grateful for the man’s little treacheries.

He approached the Captain and held out the messagepad, keeping his head down in a gesture of respect that also served to hide his features. The man took the pad and read it, then jerked his head toward some boxes that needed unloading, never once stopping to really look at his new crewman. Vaako obediently moved to the boxes, setting his bag inside the hatch and then carrying a box off the ship.

As soon as he and the Captain finished unloading, the man jerked his head toward the ship again. Vaako gave a fleeting thought to wondering if the man was mute, then boarded as ordered. He tucked his bag away in an empty storage locker and found a ratty-looking bunk to stretch out on. The ship was a one-pilot affair; if the Captain needed him, he’d call.

Right now, Vaako needed rest. He had a hard few weeks behind him, and a long hard journey in front of him.

 

 

*

 

 

A long, long journey. He escaped the Captain’s not-very-watchful eye at the spaceport, and traded his pilfered jewelry and armor for credits. He traded the garments he’d brought with him for clothing that would never be considered that of a Necromonger, then used some of his credits to purchase transport on a small freighter.

It was the only one going anywhere near his destination, and had the added bonus of leaving in about a half hour. He needed to get away before the Captain discovered his absence. The man might not be much of a soldier, but he’d be in trouble if he couldn’t find a deserter. Of course, Vaako knew he wouldn’t  _really_  be in trouble; Private Marx didn’t actually exist.

If someone figured out how Commander Vaako had escaped the MotherShip,  _then_ the man would be in serious trouble - but Vaako doubted it.

He doubted if anyone was even looking.

Riddick, he felt, wasn’t the type to seek revenge. He would have gotten most of that from Zhylaw, anyway - Vaako hadn’t _forced_ that little girl aboard his ship, and Riddick would know that. So, hopefully - and very likely - out of sight would be out of mind.

Besides, he’d have Wulia to distract him. The Lady was  _very_  good at that.

Vaako didn’t regret leaving his Wife behind. He hadn’t married her for love, anyway - she’d researched the Commanders after Zhylaw had refused her, and found the one most likely to succeed in his chosen career. Then she’d pursued him, wooed him, made him think she couldn’t live without him. Flattered, he had given little thought to her true personality and married her quite willingly.

Only to find himself trapped in a living hell.

He shuddered, and shoved thoughts of Wulia away. He had to get on board that ship before it took off.

 

*

 

It took him five weeks, and thirty-seven ships, to get to where he was going.

The last was a tiny cargo hauler, whose Captain looked at him oddly but accepted the lone credit he offered and gave him a ride. The ship touched down and Vaako was out the hatch as soon as it opened, his much emptier bag still gripped in one hand.

Hot.

Hot and bright.

He shielded his eyes against the glaring sun and saw sand, pure white sand, stretching out in front of him until it met the vast expanse of a rolling blue sea. The sky overhead was cloudless and a deep, unimaginable blue.

Behind him, the Captain was bartering for his desired cargo with a handful of sun-seared natives. None of them were paying Vaako the slightest bit of attention.

He took a deep breath and the warm, salt-tinged air flooding his lungs brought back a rush of memories. He could taste sand on his tongue, a fine, mineral taste that he had forgotten. In the distance he could see black dots on the waves, native fishing boats bobbing lazily as the people on board waited patiently for a school of fish to pass by. The beach was dotted with ramshackle dwellings, and a tang of smoke mixed with the smell of frying fish to tell him dinner would soon be ready.

“Galatsadi,” he whispered, and then he wept.

 

 

*

 

 

When Vaako had assumed no one would be looking for him, he was wrong.

Riddick sat in his private chambers, watching a video run in an endless loop on a mediascreen.

Vaako leaving the Great Hall, ransacking his chambers, undoing his braids as he strode down the hallways, tossing his hard-earned insignia into an incinerator hatch. Greeting the Captain, unloading the little supply ship, and then boarding it before it moved away from the MotherShip.

Then over again, Vaako leaving the Great Hall, ransacking his chambers...

Riddick growled, shutting off the screen and stalking over to throw himself into a chair. “No idea where he would go?”

“No, Lord Marshall.” Commander Heliz said patiently, just like he hadn’t answered that question daily for over a month. He really didn’t have any idea where Lord Vaako would have gone; the man had no more family or home than any of them.

And he’d left Lady Wulia behind.

Not that the Lady had minded that, at first. Oh, no, she’d been utterly delighted, throwing herself openly at the new Lord Marshall. Riddick had seemed amused at first, though he’d started asking about Vaako the very first day; he’d still put up with Wulia’s ridiculous display for almost a week.

Then he’d bluntly told her he wasn’t interested.

Heliz still snickered when he remembered the look on her face.

Oh, hell. Speak of the devil... well, demoness, anyway... Lady Wulia was coming through the doors right now. She’d only stepped up her campaign after Riddick refused her, though she took a bit more care to be subtle now. She was dressed in her finest, a gown of green scales shot through with gold, her hair elaborately arranged with a few gold chains and a sparkling emerald.

He would have expected her emerald headdress - if he hadn’t seen Vaako shove that into his bag.

 He snickered again. Vaako was well within his rights; Heliz had been there when Wulia’s constant demands and whines had worn Vaako down, and he’d traded a large piece of his Account for the headdress she’d wanted. He knew Wulia would never have thought to transfer it to her own name; she thought Vaako was permanently under her thumb.

He’d sure showed her.

Heliz and Vaako had always been on relatively good terms. He was pleased that the man had escaped from Lady Wulia, and hoped he escaped from whatever punishment the Lord Marshall seemed intent on delivering.

That was why, if he ever did think of a place Vaako might have headed, he  _didn’t_  think he’d ever tell Riddick.

 

 

*

 

 

Riddick growled a little when Wulia’s familiar scent filled his nostrils. Damn woman, couldn’t she ever leave him alone? Even after he’d told her no in front of half the Court, she still hung around.

He didn’t want her.

Oh, she was pretty. Smelled beautiful, looked beautiful. But he had always had a feeling she was a bitch to deal with.

And, _damn_ , had he ever been right.

“What do you want now?” He asked, not turning even though he knew she was standing just behind him.

“Lord Marshall... several of your Court will hold a small dinner tonight. Just an intimate affair, no more than twenty. We would be most honored if you would join us.”

“No,” he growled, not giving her a reason. He saw no need to, she’d tried this before. Offered a dinner, he’d gone just because there was nothing else to do, and it had been only her. Only Lady Wulia, with some half-assed excuse about the others having sudden issues that had to be dealt with immediately.

He’d eaten the dinner - he was hungry, after all - then left, ignoring her pleas and blandishments. Annoying bitch, no wonder Vaako hadn’t even tried to take her with him.

Had, according to Heliz, divorced her by leaving that necklace behind. Riddick remembered the tiny, pleased smile on those soft lips when Vaako removed the Torian. No, he’d had no intention of taking Wulia with him.

“But, Lord Marshall...” her voice was low and sweet, sounding pleasant in his ears but making his skin crawl with anger. “But Lord Riddick... we are all  _so_  looking forward to your company!”

“I said no. Heliz!”

“Yes, Lord Marshall?” The Commander leapt up from his chair at the angry tone.

“Take her back to her chambers. I don’t want to be disturbed, rest of the evening. Got it?”

“Yes, Lord Marshall!” Heliz’ voice was pleased, a smirk on his face as he took Wulia’s arm. She tried to protest, in a dainty, ladylike way, but Heliz knew an order when he heard it and it didn’t bother him a bit to carry this one out.

The doors shut with an impressive hollow 'boom' behind them.

Riddick grinned.

Then went back to his video, turning on the screen in time to see Vaako hand the messagepad to the Captain, to watch him unloading the ship. He punched some buttons under the screen to make the picture zoom in - happily indulging himself now that he was alone - and watched the play of muscles in lean, strong thighs as the man worked. He really wished Vaako had taken off the bulky armor; he would have liked to see the muscles in his back and arms, as well.

Vaako was just beautiful.

Far more beautiful than his former wife could ever hope to be. Riddick had wanted him from the first moment he saw him, after he finished fighting that Necromonger on Helia Prime, but there had been no chance of stealing the man away there.

He’d wanted him even more after seeing him on Crematorium, watching the man fight. He’d been graceful and deadly and Riddick had wanted to just grab him and haul him off to some dark corner even then.

But he still couldn’t. Had to get Kyra out of there, owed her that, owed Fry and the priest that much, although the debt still irked him. Then he’d been knocked out cold, but Kyra had gone with the Necros.

He’d boarded the ship with the intention of taking her away - but it hadn’t been his only intention. He’d never planned to fight the Lord Marshall, but he  _had_  planned to find his pretty warrior and take him away, too. Knock him out and sling him over his shoulder, if he had to. Find one of the little ships and steal it, take them both far, far away. Give Kyra a new life somewhere, anywhere she wanted.

Maybe make a new life of his own, with the only person he’d  _ever_  wanted.

He didn’t question the desire - it had never been in him to second-guess himself, to ponder over his wants and what they might mean. He just accepted them as they came, and satisfied them when he could.

The thought of satisfying  _this_  want still made him shiver.

When Kyra had died, thrown across the room to be skewered on those decorative blades, he’d seen red. He’d wanted to kill the smirking Lord Marshall, wanted it so badly all the other wants had been submerged. The fight was still a little hazy to him, sweat and pain and the horrible ache of his soul when Zhylaw tried to rip it out of him; then the axe crashing into the floor and the knife buried in the man’s skull...

...and then blinking tears away to see his pretty warrior kneeling before him, offering his allegiance.

Short-lived allegiance, but he wouldn’t blame Vaako for that. The man probably thought he was going to kill him; Riddick himself had been in situations like this before, so he could guess what the man had been thinking. The whole Necromonger army would be behind Riddick; no one could buck odds like that.

Running had been a smart thing.

But Riddick was going to track him down.

The video loop had again reached the scene of Vaako ripping the drawers out of the dresser, searching through the scattered clothes. The man picked up a tiny box and Riddick quickly leaned forward, cranked the volume.

Listened again to that soft voice, whispering the word that was driving him crazy.

“Galatsadi...”

What the  _hell_  did that mean?!

 

 


	2. Chapter Two

She sat in her ‘chamber’, deep in the bowels of the ship, and waited.

Sooner or later, one of these... these  _creatures_  would remember her, or need her.

Though she would prefer it if it was the new Lord Marshall - he was such an interesting survival, and sure to have an impact on so many planets and races - studying him could easily become her life’s work. Calculating his future and the results of his actions.

She nearly smiled, just thinking of it.

She didn’t smile, because she could not start yet. Not until she was out of this... this  _hole._

If she could get herself taken to the main decks, at least she would be among people, living, breathing creatures, for all that their society embraced death.

If she stayed down here much longer, she would go insane. She was an Elemental, still, and despite her calculations and her hunger for knowledge, she was a creature of nature, trapped in a prison of cold, dead metal.

‘And apparently,’ she thought sourly, glaring a bit at the man bringing in her breakfast tray, ‘I’ve been given mutes for guards.’ No matter what she said to them - and she’d tried  _everything_ , from sweetness to humor to off-color remarks - she got no response.

At all.

If something didn’t happen soon, she was going to start a conversation with the walls.

 

 

*

 

 

Vaako took up residence in a deserted shack, set back away from the rest and in much worse condition. The natives gave him odd looks at first, until he came out one day in only a pair of loose, low-riding pants. They looked from the tribal tattoo that circled his waist, just above his hips, to the Necromonger scars on his throat and they understood.

They left him alone.

But he occasionally found a gift of fresh fish or a pretty shell on his doorstep, and would catch a glimpse of a dusky-skinned form darting away through the palms.

He spent his days working on the shack, knowing that monsoon season would start soon and he needed to be ready. The roof was, like all the other shacks, made of palm fronds, lashed down with rope made of braided grass or strips of bark. He repaired it first, then worked on the more time-consuming task of re-weaving the holes in the grass-mat walls. None of the bamboo supports needed replaced, for which he was thankful. That was not a one-man job, and he wasn’t ready to interact with the others yet.

He spent some time fishing, though he was limited without the use of a boat, and dried most of his catch over a small fire, storing them back for the rainy season. He had only himself to support, unlike most of the natives, who tended to have large families. He didn’t need much.

By the time he had the roof fixed, his dead-white skin had picked up a faint hint of gold.

By the time the walls were done and half the fish he needed was stored back, his skin was lightly tanned and his hair had grown out into shaggy black silk that touched his shoulders around his face and tumbled most of the way down his back.

He found a small lagoon far back among the trees, and spent some time swimming and spear fishing, relearning skills that had once been second nature to him. If he was going to rebuild his life here, he would need them.

Sometimes, during the dark nights, he would let himself wonder about Wulia, about the Necromongers -

\- about Riddick -

\- but not for long. He felt... odd... when he thought of the new Lord Marshall. It confused him and therefore he avoided it. He didn’t need any more confusion in his life. He had lived so long under the strict rules and regulations of the Necromongers, where every movement had meaning and every moment was occupied, that the casual ease of his new life disoriented him.

 

 

*

 

 

One morning, around the third week after he’d arrived, he was sitting in the sun in front of his ‘house’, weaving a fishnet. A soft sound jerked his head up, and a tiny, shriveled, little old woman stood in front of him. She had a bundle wrapped in a grass mat in one hand, and a pot of dark liquid in the other. They stared at each other for a long moment, then she set down what she was carrying and gestured for him to stand.

He lay the fishnet aside and obeyed.

She yanked at his shirt in a clear order to take it off.

He obeyed again.

She made an odd humming noise as soon as she saw the tattoo, and walked around him, studying it from every angle. He stood tense and nervous, knowing she was reading his entire life story before he’d been take by the Necromongers. Most of it he had forgotten during the first Purifying, and h e felt a trace of worry that this old woman should know his past better than he did.

After a moment, she stood back and gestured for him to sit. He did, and she squatted beside him, unrolling the mat to reveal an assortment of primitive needles. He watched mutely as she fitted one to the end of a tiny, hollow bamboo rod and then filled the rod with the ink. He didn’t try to stop her as she lifted it to his shoulder an he felt the first sharp pricking against his skin.

He’d been expecting her.

 

 

*  
  
  


 

Aereon was nearly asleep when the door opened and a group of Necromongers marched in. She sat up on her makeshift cot and stared at them.

A Captain stepped forward. "The Lord Marshall requests your presence in the High Chambers," he intoned formally.

She knew that the request was really an order, but it didn’t bother her a bit.

She was getting out of this room. That was all that mattered.

 

 

*

 

 

Riddick watched as guards brought the Elemental in, bits of metal and weights on heavy chains clattering along behind her.

"Take those off her, and leave," he growled.

The guards obeyed him instantly, never dreaming of questioning his orders.

Aereon sighed with relief when the last chain was removed from a nearly transparent ankle, and she could float easily again. "To what do I owe this honor, Lord Marshall?" she asked, keeping her voice carefully calm.

"You know about languages, and people, right?"

"I do," she replied warily, wondering why in the universe he wanted to know?

"Tell me what this means."

A soft hum filled the room, telling her a recording was playing, though no view screen was lowered. There was the sound of rustling cloth, a thump like something heavy hitting the floor.

Then silence, and a soft voice whispered a word that she vaguely recognized.

"Galatsadi..."

Riddick turned the recording off as soon as Vaako spoke. "Well?"

"It seems to me that I know this word. May I ask why you wish to know its meaning?"

"Ask all you want. I ain’t answering."

She nodded. "I see. While I search my memory, Lord Marshall, may I ask what you intend to do with me?"

"What do you  _want_  done with you?" he asked, and she knew the eyes behind the goggles were curious.

"I am an Elemental, Lord Marshall. Our race is known for our love of learning, of gathering knowledge and attempting to calculate future events. I would request leave to continue this tradition, aboard this ship."

Riddick shrugged. "Don’t cause me trouble, and you can do what you want." When she smiled, he held up a warning hand. "You can do what you want, so long as you tell me what the hell that word means."

"Of course. As I recall, there is a small planet in Sector 14-8r of the Ionia Galaxy. It is ninety-eight percent ocean, with one small landmass. Half of its year, it is swamped with torrential rains and hurricane-force winds. There is a very small indigenous population, most of whom have never left the planet. Sometimes traders will steal a small child and take them elsewhere - they are excellent swimmers and fisher-folk, and these skills are often highly valued. The traders, rather prosaically, call the planet Beach. According to our research, the natives prefer an older, softer name. They call it Galatsadi."

Riddick was frowning. "What’s it mean? Galatsadi?"

"An approximate translation is difficult... it means ‘abode’, or ‘dwelling place’... the rough translation is ‘here is where my family dwells’. In other words, Galatsadi... means Home."

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

Vaako sat on a large rock near his house, watching the sun set over the waves. The sky was painted in vivid shades of red and orange, wispy clouds lending to the illusion that it was on fire. He sighed, and stretched lazily. The day had been long and warm and he was tired. He’d been fishing, swimming, had wandered through the forest behind his house and gathered fruits for his simple supper. His skin still radiated warmth from the blazing sun and he felt like curling up, cat-like, and falling into slumber right here.

Gods, but it was good to be home.

His fingers wandered to his arm, rubbing at the scabs but forcing himself not to scratch. They itched, but he had no desire to get an infection. The tattoos were only a few days old; they would heal, but he had to be careful of them for now.

The old woman had spent several hours pricking him with that needle, until his story was being continued, written in simple black runes down the outside of his shoulder and arm, past his elbow, to his wrist. He recognized only two of the dozen symbols so far; ‘ulahnaida’ and ‘uhisati’.

Lost. Lonely.

He had become an Ulahna’soqua.

A Lost One - one of a handful of children taken from Galatsadi who had later found their way back. It only happened rarely, and the natives wept when they were lost, and rejoiced when they returned. They loved them, watched over them, made sure they had enough to eat and a place to live if they could not take care of these things on their own. Left them alone until they found their balance.

Some never found it, and the natives did not approach them with their gentle overtures, their invitation to rejoin the lives of the relatives they had left behind and found again.

Apparently they considered Vaako a fast learner, or the elderly woman wouldn’t have shown up with her needles and inks. Vaako himself was far from sure that he was ready to try and merge back into their innocent, carefree lives, but he would not turn away from them. He had shown this by allowing her to print his skin with the patterns for the Ulahna’soqua, to forever brand him as different, but loved.

Now that she had been there, others would come. People he had known once, whose faces had now become strange and unfamiliar.

Vanished from his memory after the trauma of First Purifying...

They would come and speak to him in the language he no longer understood, watch him with their dark eyes. They would come again and again until his memory began to awaken, and he could speak back to them.

He could remember very few traces of his life before he was taken by the Necromongers, when he had been around six - not even the memory of being taken from Galatsadi to the nasty industrial planet where he’d been Converted. But he  _did_ remember sitting in the sand beside a pretty, dark-haired woman, watching as she spoke softly to an older, sad-eyed woman who stared blankly back. Remembered that the older woman was a Lost One, and that they loved her. That they were waiting for her to come back to them, in her mind and heart as well as her body.

Who she was, or who the woman beside of him had been, he did not know.

But he hoped that, someday, he would remember.

 

*

 

"Lord Marshall!"

Riddick didn’t even hesitate in his stride as he went down the hall, ignoring the lilting voice.

"Lord Marshall!" came the call again, and the tap-tapping sound of little high-heeled slippers hurrying to catch up to him.

He walked faster.

He reached the room Aereon had set up as her little research center, or whatever the hell it was that she did in there, and banged on the door. He would have just shoved it open, but it was locked.

"Enter!" called a voice within, and he heard the lock turn. Just in time, too - the scent of Wulia’s familiar perfume was just reaching his nostrils. He heard her call after him as he went into the room, but he slammed the door without answering.

"You’re going to have to do something about her," an amused voice said, and he turned and glared at the glowing Elemental.

"I’m gonna find something big and hungry to feed her to," he growled, walking over to a chair and slumping down in it. "What’s all this?"

Aereon’s tables were covered in papers, datapads, and charts. "This is me, trying to discover why you are the way you are."

"Lost cause."

"Perhaps. Was there something you wanted to ask me, Lord Marshall?"

"Want you to tell me about that place."

"Ah, Galatsadi, I assume?" She took his glare for an affirmative. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything."

"And may I ask why?" she moved to sit in the chair across from him.

"Ask all you want."

"But you’re not answering." She sighed. That was his usual response. "You’re planning on going after him, aren’t you? He won’t want to come back. Once a native of Galatsadi returns to their home world, they never want to leave again. You would have to take him by force, and he would hate you for it."

Aereon was no fool. For all her questions of ‘why’, she had a fairly good idea of the reasons behind Riddick’s fascination with the little backwater planet.

" _Never_  want to leave?" Riddick asked sharply, determined to make sure of that fact. He had plans to make, after all.

"Well, I have never heard of one leaving again," Aereon corrected her previous statement. "They are very attached to their home world - they call the planet their Sister as often as they call it Home."

"Weird."

"Perhaps. That is the way it is, however. In all of our research books, there is not one single account of a native of Galatsadi willingly leaving their planet. They are stolen as children or forcibly taken as adults, yes, but they do not go on their own." She gave him a sympathetic smile and changed the subject. "Is there something else you would like to learn about? Families? How they support themselves? Marriage customs, perhaps?"

She added that last in total innocence.

Riddick glared. He didn’t buy that guileless look for a minute. "Yeah, whatever. I said everything, didn’t I?"

"Yes, you did. Very well, we’ll start with family and marriage customs. The natives of Galatsadi live in five small groups - each group is a family. It is lead by one Elder female and one Elder male, their brothers and sisters, the chosen mates of those brothers and sisters, and all of their children. When a young one ‘marries’ - though they don’t formally call it that - they spend half the year with one family, half the year with the other.  _All_  of the natives are very close, and there is usually, but not always, a High Elder couple who is rather like the last resort between fighting groups. They settle disputes that the Elders of the group can’t settle." She paused to see if her student had grasped all of this.

Riddick just nodded.

"Marriages aren’t arranged - it is one of the few native civilizations that does not even force their children  _to_  marry. They are - the traders call them careless, and lazy, but the best word for them is content. If their children want to mate and have more babies, that’s good; if they want to live their lives single and childless, that’s good, too. They can choose a partner of either gender without causing a ripple of concern. Everyone is allowed to do what makes them happy, so long as it doesn’t hurt someone else. It’s the closest to Utopia that we have ever discovered."

"And no one’s ever tried to overrun them, take over the planet?"

"No. It’s a beautiful beach planet, but the land space is  _very_  small. The only island is about thirty miles wide and fifty long; the population is quite small. Mating couples usually have no more than two children. They know they cannot support too many hungry mouths. There are no animals on the island except for a few goats that they get from the traders; these are kept for milk and cheese. The rest of the time they run wild. They’re only eaten at special occasions; mating ceremonies and celebrations of season changes."

"So... why hasn’t anyone taken them over?" Riddick prompted.

"Because of the weather. For five months out of the year, Galatsadi is a wonderful place, sunny and just hot enough to go about half-naked. The natives fish and gather fruits and grow vegetables to dry and store back for the rainy season - which takes up the rest of the year."

"Ah. What’s that season like?"

"I believe a trader who was trapped there by a broken-down ship called it Pure Hell." Aereon said, absolutely straight-faced. "It rains, and it rains, and it rains, and the ocean rises about twenty feet. The wind blows, and there is thunder, and lightning. If the natives have an hour of sunlight in the day, they call themselves blessed. Their huts are on stilts, about ten feet in the air and set well back from the beaches - by the time the rainy season is over, the water is lapping at their doorways. The huts look like they would fall apart if you touched them, but they are made of bamboo and grass mats, purposefully built to bend into hurricane-force winds without breaking. It’s desolate and miserable and the natives sleep a lot. There isn’t much else to do, beyond occasionally trying for fresh fish when they are tired of eating what they’ve dried."

"Sounds lovely." Riddick said sarcastically. " _Why_  don’t they want to leave this place?"

"I suppose the rest of the year makes up for it," Aereon shrugged. "We have most of our information from the traders, no Elemental has yet been to Galatsadi. There are so many other, bigger planets to study. And there are only so many of us, after all."

"What about outsiders?" Riddick changed the subject.

"Ah. Well, they are wary of the traders - they’re the ones who occasionally steal their children, you know. But there are cases of outsiders staying, marrying into the native tribes. Apparently, they decide just by looking at you, if you are welcome to stay on Galatsadi. It’s all very vague - the traders rarely want to stay, so they can’t tell us much about that."

Riddick opened his mouth to ask another question when someone knocked on the door.

Aereon frowned, but called out, "Enter!" anyway.

Then wished she hadn’t, when Lady Wulia glided inside.

"Lord Marshall," she started, completely ignoring Aereon, "there are some Lords and Ladies of the court who wish to speak to you in the High Chambers. Will you give us a moment of your time?" It was sweetly said, with a smile.

Riddick scowled anyway. "What’s so important?"

"We have questions, Lord Marshall, about the lack of a suitable consort in your Chambers. We have very serious concerns over this - the Lord Marshall should  _always_  have a consort."

Riddick snorted, ignoring her as she stepped close enough to press against his chair, her entire body making suggestions about who that consort should be. "I don’t want a consort."

"But, Lord Marshall, it is tradition! We have several suitable candidates for you to choose from. We will be waiting for you!" She brushed her fingers gently across his chin, moving away before he could growl at her and vanishing out the door.

Riddick swore.

Aereon laughed. "There are always ways around tradition, my Lord. I suggest that you think fast."

Riddick swore again.

 

*

 

Vaako was drying his catch over the fire when a noise made him turn, his senses on high alert. He’d been expecting visitors all week, when none arrived, he’d gradually relaxed. Now he was startled, and his Necromonger training screamed that this sudden sound meant danger.

Danger turned out to be a small girl with long black hair, gazing up at him with wide, curious dark eyes. He relaxed and stared back down at her. He knew nothing of children, so he waited for her to make the first move.

She kept staring for several minutes, her eyes studying the reddened skin around his new tattoos and the faded marks around his waist, going over the shaggy black silk hair and the pale Necromonger scars on his neck. Finally, she held out her hand, offering him something.

He took it carefully, found it was a bracelet made of braided leather and tiny shells. He raised an eyebrow; leather was an incredibly expensive commodity on this little island. All they had was from the goats eaten at the rare celebrations or what little they had bargained for with the traders. When he looked up again, the child was just vanishing back into the trees.

He shrugged and tied the bracelet around his left wrist, wondering why someone would give him such a precious treasure. Wondering why a child had it in the first place?

He moved back toward his fire and froze again at another sound - one that he knew was rare on this planet.

Someone was arguing.

Quite loudly, too - it sounded like two women, maybe three. He turned, sharp eyes scanning the beach, and saw the old woman from before, her grass mat bundle in hand, arguing calmly with a younger woman.

That one was anything but calm. She was almost screaming, her face turning red, trying to dodge around the woman, but every time she moved, a frail old arm shot out and blocked her way. After a moment, she looked toward Vaako, saw him staring, and suddenly subsided. Without the screeching, her face calmed enough for Vaako to see that she looked vaguely familiar - was she someone he used to know? She  _was_  younger than the elderly lady she was fighting with, but she was older than he was. He didn’t think it was by much - perhaps ten or fifteen years.

The old woman turned to see what had caused her to be quiet, and her eyes narrowed at sight of Vaako’s wide eyes. She spoke sharply to the younger woman, her tone easily interpreted as ‘see-what-you’ve-done-now?!’ and the younger one flushed and turned to walk away. Her shoulders were slumped, and her whole body screamed sadness. The older woman shook her head and caught at the younger woman’s arm.

They talked for a moment, the older demanding something, and the younger nodding her head excitedly. Vaako frowned, wondering what was going on. He really wished he remembered more of the language; the only words he could speak or understand right now were simple greetings.

The women were moving toward him now, the Elder in front and the other trailing meekly behind her. The old woman came straight to him, gesturing for him to sit again, while the young one took over the drying of the fish. She kept darting looks at Vaako while the old woman filled her primitive needle and began pricking a new design down the inside of the same arm she’d worked on earlier.

She gave a toothless grin at the sight of the bracelet, tapping it with a gnarled finger and calling out to the woman at the fire. That woman looked startled, staring at his wrist; then she grinned. She said something back to the Elder, and they both laughed.

Vaako just sighed. He never understood women before, this way it was just worse.

 

*

 

Riddick was in the High Chambers, glaring at the assembled nobles. He’d already turned down all their ‘suitable candidates’ - Wulia included - and now they were asking that he name someone else. Apparently, the Lord Marshall’s Consort held a high position among them, and they wanted that position filled.

Every one of them, male and female alike, were hoping to be the one chosen.

Too bad for them that Riddick knew exactly who he wanted, and wasn’t going to settle for anyone else. He sat on the Lord Marshall’s throne and while they chattered, speaking of their own virtues or those of their chosen candidate, he started plotting just exactly how to  _get_  the one he wanted.

The first thing he had to do...

...was get rid of this army.

And he knew just how to do it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The language of Galatsadi is roughly based on my very poor memory of my maternal Grandmother's native Cherokee. She didn't speak it often enough for any of us to become fluent.  
> Ulahna’soqua is pronounced 'oo-lah-nah so-qwah'


	4. Chapter 4

It was going to rain soon. There was a hint of moisture in the usually dry air, a faintly ominous feeling to the wind.

Vaako had redoubled his efforts to get enough food for the rainy season - he probably had enough for himself, but he knew how supplies could run low if the natives weren’t careful. It wouldn’t hurt in the slightest to have extra to share. In fact, it was a very good idea.

He woke this morning with an odd, unsettled feeling in his stomach - as if something was going to happen that he wasn’t going to like. When he left the hut, he saw that the sky was dark with far-off clouds, and that there were three trader ships circling, ready to land for the last frantic bartering session before the rainy season cut off all access to the planet.

Nothing could land once Galatsadi’s skies began to weep.

Vaako himself had little to barter with; the traders had all the fresh and dried fish they wanted for the season. They were now only interested in the delicate shell jewelry the natives made or the pearls that the younger boys spent hours diving for, out beyond the reefs. The natives wouldn’t part with either until this last trading session; they knew they got the best deals that way. This was when they would get their leather, and some baby goats to freshen the herd, and perhaps a delicacy like dried meat and vegetables.

Or the  _ultimate_  Galatsadi delicacy, a candy bar.

Vaako sometimes smiled over the childishness of his people, and he knew the traders considered them all insane. But that was just the way life was here. Little pleasures were so fully appreciated; the warmth of a squirming, silky-coated baby goat, not yet grown to bristle-haired adulthood, or the rare taste of meat, or the rich sweetness of chocolate melting across your tongue.

He wouldn’t have minded a bit of the candy, himself... that was what he was thinking as he watched the trade ships finally land. But all he had to barter was the bracelet around his wrist or the contents of the tiny box hidden in his shack, and he wasn’t willing to part with either.

So he’d go without chocolate for this year.

He smiled again, rolling his eyes at the thought. Wulia would be so embarrassed of him, Lord Vaako, First Among Commanders of the Necromonger army, wishing he had a bar of candy to nibble on while it rained.

She’d never understood his fondness for that particular delicacy, anyway - she’d preferred a certain fancy, hard to prepare dessert. Eating it in front of others was a definite status symbol - one had to bribe the chef for the man to even consider preparing it.

His smile broadened at the thought that he’d never have to worry about what she thought was embarrassing. He’d never see the damn woman again.

He turned his eyes away from the landed ships, not very interested in the traders and the natives surrounding them, since he had no part to play in their doings. He was surf-fishing, with a spear - just playing, really, since most of the fish were sheltered in the deep water, avoiding the coming storm.

He had no idea of the picture he made as he stood there, thigh-deep in restless waves, his lean, lithe body finally tanned dark brown, the dying rays of the sun lighting the black silk of his hair. The new tattoos on his raised spear arm were picked out in strong relief by the perfect light, the older marks around his waist easily revealed; his old pants rode low on his hips, since he’d lost weight once he got back to his home.

He looked like the perfect drawing of a savage from some ancient book, every line of muscle etched perfectly by the fading light, his whole body tense with anticipation as his sharp eyes caught the silvery flash of a fish in the water.

He focused on it, completely unaware of the man in worn trader’s clothing who strolled along the beach, watching him intently.

His eyes were fixed on the fish - it was a big one, a very big one, and he was surprised to see it in water this shallow. He was fairly certain he recognized what kind it was, though the shifting patterns of light in the choppy water made it hard to be sure. If he was right, then it was one of the more delicious of Galatsadi’s marine life.

One of his favorites, in fact - though he still would rather have his chocolate bar.

Still, catching this fish would leave no doubt whatsoever that he could make it through the rainy season...

He waited, standing perfectly still, until the large fish was swimming calmly around his feet. He tightened his grip on the spear handle, took a deep breath, and then drove the sharp point down. He knew his spear had found its target when he was nearly yanked off his feet, the wooden spear handle escaping his fingers for a second until he snatched it back and tightened his grip.

The fish was even bigger than he had thought -  _much_  bigger, and stronger. Despite the sharpened spear running through it, it was still trying to swim away. Vaako braced his legs and pulled it back - he might have to eat this fish to survive, but that didn’t mean he wanted it to suffer. He needed to get it out of the water, and now.

The fact that the storm clouds were growing darker and closer leant even more swiftness to his actions.

It was a struggle - usually a fish this size took three or even four natives to fight it out of the water. He wasn’t entirely sure he could do it on his own, but it wasn’t in his nature to just give up without trying. He leaned hard on the spear, trying to drive the point into the sandy ocean bottom. If he could, it would hold the fish long enough for him to grab it and attempt to wrestle it out of the water - if he tried to flip it out on the spear, he knew the wooden pole would break. The fish was too heavy for it to bear the weight.

He was about to take his chance and let go of the spear when splashing sounds alerted him to the fact that he wasn’t alone. He didn’t have time to even glance at his visitor - the person leaned into the water and wrapped strong arms around the fish at the exact time his spear gave into the pressure and broke.

Vaako swore, tossed the broken shaft toward the beach, and grabbed for the fish’s tail. His helper was already lifting the front half from the water. The man must be incredibly strong; it usually took two natives, after all, to lift each end of a fish this size. He wasn’t going to fall down on his own part; he set his teeth and lifted the rest of the fish from the water, staggering slightly under the weight.

The two men struggled up onto the beach, the fish still thrashing madly between them. Almost as soon as they had reached the sand, one mighty jerk of the tail knocked Vaako down. By the time he was back up, the other man had wrenched out the spear point and finished the job.

"Thank you for your help," Vaako gasped, out of breath from the fight and the tumble he had taken.

The other man only nodded, his face shadowed by a battered hat as he stared down at the fish.

Vaako just stared at  _him_ , taking in the broad shoulders and plain, serviceable clothes. A trader - but why would a trader have helped him? Did he want part of the fish as payment?

He opened his mouth to ask the man when a sudden roaring caused him to jerk around. Further down the beach, the natives were running back toward their huts as the three trading ships began to lift off. They gleamed dully in the fading light - the sun had finally vanished behind the clouds, leaving Galatsadi in the twilight that would last most of the rainy season.

"They’re leaving without you!" he said urgently, turning back to his helper, who was still standing perfectly still. "You’re going to be stuck here if you don’t run!"

The man shook his head, still not budging.

Vaako frowned. What was he doing? Was he another Lost One, come back home? He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but something about the man was familiar.

More whirring sounds filled the air, and he turned his dark hazel eyes up to watch the ships lift until they were black dots, then vanish out of sight. "Well, you’re here for eight months now..." he said softly, turning back toward the man -

\- only to be tackled, strong arms wrapping around him as a heavier body forced his down into the still-warm sand.

"What?!" Vaako’s cry was cut off as a hand covered his mouth, his automatic struggles not doing much to get him free. The other man was bigger, stronger, and seemed to be possessed of about twenty-eight arms, all holding him down.

The beach was deserted, all the others inside - he would get no help. The rain was coming, a cold damp wind blowing against the trees and making him shiver even as he fought.

They struggled together silently, Vaako fighting to get free and the trader battling just as hard to keep him pinned down.  Vaako punched and bit and clawed and the man shrugged every bit of it off.  The only sound was the shrieking howl of the wind as the rain came closer and closer...

And suddenly drenched them, cold water pouring down and soaking them to the bone in a split second. The light vanished, sucked up into the darkness of the clouds. Thunder rolled, lightning flashed, splitting the darkness in useless second-long intervals.

Useless for Vaako, anyway. He was fighting blind now, and he was losing. The other man didn’t seem to be having any trouble seeing; he felt a hand wrap tightly around one wrist, then the hand over his mouth vanished. He didn’t yell - there wasn’t any use. Even if one of the others  _was_  on the beach, they couldn’t hear him over this storm.

With the amazing strength his opponent was showing, they couldn’t have helped, anyway.

His other wrist was caught, and despite his desperate struggles, he felt something wrapping tightly around both of them, binding his arms together. As soon as they were secure, the man was off of him, grasping the bonds and yanking him to his feet.

He watched in amazement as the fish was lifted next, slung over a brawny shoulder, then he was being tugged up the beach. He was astonished to find that they were going in the direction of his shack.

How did the man know that was where he lived?

Maybe he had just realized that it was the only empty one. He would know that if he had been watching the natives run for shelter, instead of staring after the ships like Vaako had.

He stumbled after the man, nearly jerked off his feet several times. They reached the shack quicker than he had expected, and the man tossed the fish down on the tiny porch.

Then he tied Vaako’s wrists to his belt, and proceeded to clean the monster.

Completely ignoring the tugging Vaako was doing as he tried to get away.

What the  _hell_  was the man’s belt made out of, titanium?! Leather would have given way by now! At least his pants should have started to tear!

What was going on?! He wanted to whine the words plaintively, but he resisted.

The man still wasn’t paying the slightest bit of attention to him, anyway; he was now filleting the fish with a wicked looking blade. Vaako paused in his attempts to escape to study him. He couldn’t see much beyond the bulky trader’s jacket and the leather pants. A broad-brimmed, floppy hat hid most of the man’s face, only a slightly stubbly jaw and a smirking mouth were visible.

Wait... he knew that smirk from somewhere...

He leaned forward, trying to get close enough to peer under the hat’s wide, dripping brim. The man immediately shifted so that his back was fully to Vaako.

Vaako scowled.

He couldn’t lean to the right to get a better look; his wrists were tied to the left side of the man’s belt. Leaning right made it feel like his left hand was going to tear off.

He couldn’t lean to the left because of a wide bamboo support post. He scowled harder at the thing and thought about kicking it, but dismissed the notion as childish.

He was just going to have to wait for his captor to decide to look at him.

Damn.

The man took his own sweet time, ignoring the pounding rain and the frigid wind. He finished with the fish, and put the fillets in a woven basket Vaako had left just inside the door. There was a rather battered duffle bag next to  _that_  - Vaako knew it wasn’t his, so it had to belong to the trader.

How had he known to put it here? Had he been watching Vaako  _that_  long?!

Once the basket was full and the mess disposed of, the man took the basket to the sheltered area beneath the hut, forcing Vaako to once again stumble after him. There was a fire pit below the house, to be used for warmth and for the constant drying of fish the natives had to do; it was low enough not to set the shack on fire and could be used until the last two months of the rainy season, when the water would be too high.

The man set the basket down beside the blackened pit and turned to Vaako, pushing back his hat as his grin grew wider.

Vaako stared into the smug silver eyes and his heart nearly stopped beating.

Riddick.

 


	5. Chapter 5

Aereon sighed softly and rolled over, her subconscious telling her she needed to wake up.

She ignored it. These Necromongers really knew how to live... er, well... how to exist, anyway. The bed in her chambers was almost sinfully comfortable.

An annoying, repetitive sound rang in her ears and she frowned, not quite awake yet, but her brain liked puzzles and was already trying to figure out what that noise could be.

Oh.

Someone was knocking.

Yawning sleepily, she pried open her eyes and got up, drifting over to a mirror to smooth her hair before turning toward the door. Her sleeping gown was barely different from her day gown, anyone who wasn’t an Elemental would be hard pressed to tell between the two. So she felt no embarrassment at opening the doors in her current state of dress.

She raised a questioning eyebrow at the man standing there. "Commander Heliz? Is there something I can do for you?"

"No, My Lady. I’m here to see if there is anything I can do for  _you_."

She stared at him. "...do for me? Whatever do you mean? And did you just call me ‘My Lady?’"

"Yes, of course," he replied, nodding. "I am not the type to be disrespectful."

Well - she had noticed that; he was always calm and polite around her... but he’d never addressed her as ‘My Lady!’

Wait... a certain sly humor in his eyes warned her that something was happening that she was unaware of.

"What is going on, Commander?"

"Oh - were you not informed? Our Lord Marshall has left."

"Left?" Aereon’s face went blank with surprise, her mind racing. "How could he just leave?"

"Holy Pilgrimage, My Lady. He has gone on to become a Holy Half-Dead, as he rightfully should."

"I don’t understand. I know the rules of that Pilgrimage - should he not be waiting a full cycle before he goes on it? And you should be with him, and then there are the maidens and the..."

"Lord Riddick changed the rules. It is his right as Lord Marshall."

Aereon sighed and rolled her eyes expressively. "He would certainly do it that way, I shouldn’t be surprised at all. Who did he leave as his proxy Leader? You? Or... oh, no. No. He didn’t."

Helix grinned again. "Why else would I call you My Lady, My Lady? Lord Riddick has named you as proxy Marshall until his return. What are your orders for the day, Lady Marshall?"

Aereon had to control the sudden urge to scream.

If she had let the sound loose, it would have been heard on the far side of the _galaxy_.

 

 

*

 

 

Vaako took a step back when he realized who the mysterious ‘trader’ was.

At least, he tried to.

Riddick still had Vaako’s hands tied to his belt - he couldn’t move back without taking the other man with him.

That was rather like trying to pull the Necromonger’s MotherShip up a steep hill.

While wearing roller skates.

Riddick’s grin broadened at his obvious surprise. "Didn’t expect to see me again, did ya?"

Vaako shook his head mutely, trying to think of a way out of this trap. The natives would gladly give him shelter, if he could just get away from this man. There were hiding places on Galatsadi that no outsider could ever find.

Riddick seemed to be reading his mind - he scowled, his silver-ice eyes narrowing dangerously. "You’re not getting away from me," he growled, emphasizing his words with a tug on Vaako’s bonds. "Been looking for you too long, pretty warrior."

Vaako stared. _What_ had the man just called him?!

Riddick grinned again, and untied his wrists from his belt. The quicksilver eyes swept over the support posts holding the house above them, until they settled on a large hook, several feet above their heads. It was set into one post, and used for hanging vegetables to dry in the arid summer breezes.

Almost before Vaako could register what was happening, his wrists were yanked above his head and the bonds looped over that hook. Riddick nearly lifted him from the ground to accomplish this - he was left with his toes barely touching the sandy earth. He couldn’t raise up any higher to get his wrists over the curved hook, and yanking down or swinging all his weight against them didn’t break the bonds, either. He was beginning to think Riddick had invented some sort of new cloth.

... _why_  wouldn’t the damn stuff tear?!

 

 

*

 

 

Riddick watched his captive struggle, enjoying his clear view of the muscles in Vaako’s torso and arms bunching and flexing as he fought to free himself.

So  _pretty_...

There was no way the man was getting loose; the outer layer of those bonds was regular cloth, but it hid an inner layer of the super-light chain mail the Necromongers used. There was no way Vaako could tell that was there; otherwise the man wouldn’t be fighting.

His eyes moved to watch the slide of fabric - Vaako’s loose pants were riding low on his slim hips, and all it would take was one quick yank... but he’d best not do that yet.

No need to scare the man to death.

Vaako would be finding out what he wanted soon enough. Riddick had hunted for his prey too long, waited too long to be patient now. He’d take care of this damn fish, and then he’d explain a few things to his pretty warrior.

There was no way he was letting Vaako go. If the man didn’t cooperate at first, it didn’t matter to Riddick. He knew what he wanted, and he was going to  _have_  what he wanted. Wouldn’t hurt him - had no desire to hurt him - but he was going to take him if he had to tie him down.

His pretty mate would get used to it soon enough.

Riddick didn’t surprise himself at the thought ‘mate’. The beast inside him had been there as long as he could remember, causing his brutal reactions to the deadly worlds around him. It wanted Vaako as much as he did, screamed ‘mate!’ as soon as it saw the man. Riddick had never been inclined to argue with it.

And his prey would learn that he couldn’t, either.

Riddick turned back to the basket of fish, lifting it over to the fire pit and quickly starting a blaze with the wood that was already piled inside of it. He moved quickly and efficiently, using various items hanging from the sturdy support poles, until he had most of the fish drying and some of it sizzling to eat fresh.

Vaako was still fighting, though his struggles had settled into trying to work his fingers close enough to the knots to get them undone.

‘ _Keep trying, pretty,_ ’ Riddick thought smugly, ‘ _I know what I’m doing when I tie someone up. You’re not getting away from me._ ’

He was confident enough in his abilities that he left Vaako for a few minutes, retrieving some items from his bag, still sitting inside the house, and checking the sky and the surroundings before he returned.

There was no sign of the natives in the dark forest around the shack.

And no sign of the raging storm slowing any time soon.

Perfect.

 

 

*

 

 

Vaako growled, his frustration levels rising. The knots were always  _just_  out of reach,  _just_  beyond his fingertips, no matter which way he moved. His arms were beginning to ache, so he rested for a moment, trying to balance on his toes as he watched Riddick working over the fire.

The man had taken off the floppy hat, revealing the familiar smooth, shaven skull. The black goggles were pushed back on his forehead. They’d been completely hidden under that hat, the wide brim protecting Riddick’s sensitive eyes from the dying sun when he’d been on the beach.

His own eyes wandered over the broad back and strong arms, wondering if he  _could_  escape the man if he got free. The man was built like a graceful steamroller - if there was such a thing - and exuded raw power with every movement of his body. Vaako already knew he was light on his feet - he’d seen him running across Crematoria - so outrunning him wouldn’t be easy. Especially with the wind, and the shifting sand underfoot...

...but it didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try.

If he could just get loose.

"Might as well stop fighting it. Not going anywhere."

Riddick’s low voice jerked his eyes away from studying his bonds and back to the man by the fire.

Except he wasn’t at the fire anymore, he was standing about two feet away, gazing at him with amusement in his eyes.

"What do you want?" Vaako spoke for the first time since Riddick had captured him. He was fairly certain that he knew the answer, but it never hurt to feign ignorance. If Riddick wanted to kill him for the death of that little girl, he was going to keep him talking as long as he could. He wasn’t eager to embrace death.

Not when he’d finally gotten Home again.

"What do you think I want? Got any idea at all?" Riddick stepped closer, until there was only a hand-space of distance between them. Vaako could feel the heat radiating off the other man’s body.

"I could probably guess," Vaako replied carefully, watching the smile broaden with slight confusion. What...?

"Oh, you think you can guess?" Riddick moved even closer, until their chests were nearly touching. He leaned forward, nose almost against Vaako’s, gazing into the worried hazel eyes. "You really think so?"

"I..." Vaako didn’t get any further than that. Riddick leaned in the last little bit, closing the distance between them, and his lips smashed into Vaako’s in a starving kiss. Strong hands grasped the back of his head, fingers tangling in his long hair, an aggressive tongue forced its way inside his mouth and started exploring, forcing his tongue to play along.

Vaako’s mind reeled, one sentence replaying over and over in his thoughts.

‘ _I guess I was wrong._ ’

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has non-con in it. Riddick does not ask for permission!

 

The kiss seemed to last forever, stealing Vaako’s breath and making his head spin. The fingers wound in his hair held him close, immobile; the tongue that had forced its way past his lips was hot and wet and explored every tiny part of his mouth, learning all the secrets that his lips kept hidden. It slid along his teeth, under his own tongue, explored the inside of his cheeks and dipped into the well between his bottom lip and front teeth. Mapping him, memorizing him.

Vaako had never known how...  _claimed_  a kiss could make someone feel.

Riddick’s hands left his hair, wandered over his shoulders and slid down his sides, tracing muscles pulled taut by his outstretched arms. He let his thumbs trail over Vaako’s ribs, which he gleefully noted made his captive squirm, and down to rest on his slim waist.

Then further, sliding into the loose pants and cupping a firm, nicely packed backside.

Vaako froze, then started struggling again.

Riddick laughed, lifting his lips the tiniest bit. "Pretty warrior..." he whispered, "stop fighting me."

"Stop calling me that!" was Vaako’s breathless reply.

His captor snickered. "Call it like I see it, pretty. Get used to it."

"...bastard."

"True. Might as well get used to that, too." And the firm lips were on Vaako’s again, the hot tongue resuming its interrupted explorations. Riddick’s big, callused hands tightened, pressing Vaako’s hips firmly against his own.

Against the very big, very warm bulge pressing against Riddick’s leather pants.

Vaako’s eyes went huge, and he yanked fiercely against the bonds again.

"Stop that," Riddick growled, "you’re gonna hurt yourself."

"You... but, you..."

Riddick laughed, shaking his head. "What, got you all speechless? Think I call you ‘pretty’ just for the hell of it?" His hands smoothed over the curve of Vaako’s ass, relishing the soft, satin skin.

The wriggling Vaako was doing was pretty fun, too.

Pretty warrior deserved another kiss.

Vaako surprised himself by opening his mouth as soon as Riddick’s lips were against his - what was he doing, letting himself be kissed like this...? All right, so the kissing was nice - that was a mild way to put it - but Riddick’s wandering hands were very unsettling and oh,  _gods_ , what was he doing?!

Riddick grinned at the strangled cry, running his fingers over the treasure he was exploring in the front of Vaako’s pants, now. Felt pretty good, nice length, nice girth - and swelling rapidly. Very nice, indeed.

He wanted to see it.

Vaako’s pants were loose enough that it took only a slight yank to remove them; the soft sound of them hitting the ground was swallowed up by a roar of thunder from the sky above them.

It drowned out Vaako’s yelp, too.

Riddick stepped back for a moment, admiring the sight in front of him. Nearly every muscle on Vaako’s lithe body was clearly defined as he renewed his struggles with the bonds, his hair swinging wildly behind him, his definitely pretty cock well on its way to being fully erect.

The Lord Marshall licked his lips. That had to be the most delicious sight he’d ever seen.

He stepped forward again, and shocked the hell out of his captive by grasping his waist and lifting him high enough that he could slip his wrists off the hook.

"What..." Vaako stared down at him, trying not to sigh as the blood rushed back into his now-lowered arms, wondering why Riddick had let him free his arms.

Also, why he was still holding him up?

His tired arms had fallen, completely of their own accord, around Riddick’s neck in an unintentional embrace. The taller man let him slide slowly down, enjoying the sensation of that lean body against his own, then went back to groping him.

Vaako went back to wriggling, biting off any moans that tried to escape.

Riddick lowered his mouth to the man’s neck, tracing one of the Necromonger scars with his tongue. Vaako yelped, his arms tightening suddenly, his whole body going tense and pressing against him.

Riddick raised an eyebrow. Oh, so those were sensitive?

He licked again.

Yep, definitely sensitive, if that _yodel_ was anything to go by.

 

*

 

Vaako was floating.

That was the only way to describe how he was feeling.

He couldn’t quite remember when he’d stopped fighting to get away from the man, or when he’d been brought closer to the warm fire, or where the blanket beneath him had come from, or where Riddick’s clothes seemed to have vanished to.

All he could do was arch and moan and feel that wicked tongue on his skin, those big calloused hands sliding over his body, their touch an odd mix of rough and careful. Riddick had showed no inclination, yet, of spreading his legs and moving on to anything more intense, so Vaako found himself quite willing to go with the flow.

Just as long as the flow kept feeling this good.

It had been a long time, he realized vaguely, a  _very_  long time, since he’d been touched in any way that felt good. Dame Vaako hadn’t been one for gentle caresses; sex with her had been quick and efficient, just to prove there was a bond between them. He didn’t remember touching her at all over the past two years, no more than taking her arm or escorting her to a million different boring functions.

There was no friendly touching among Necromonger soldiers; no handclasps or slaps to the shoulder or back - and he had prided himself on never taking a new convert or one of the ship’s whores to his bed. Such things had been beneath his dignity -

\- but left it no wonder that Riddick was able to reduce him to a melted, confused puddle so easily.

"What’re you thinking about?" the deep voice rumbled, lips hot and damp against his ear.

Vaako flinched slightly, pulled out of his daze for a moment, and blinked at the man.

"You’re gettin’ too far away," he was told, then Riddick moved back down his body, leaving him staring down at the smoothly shaven head, confused.

He couldn’t concentrate on it for long, though - Riddick went back to his nipples, taking one in his mouth and curling his tongue around it, tugging lightly. At the same time, a hand slid between Vaako’s thighs and moved them slightly apart.

Vaako abruptly stiffened, something close to fear flickering in his chest.

"Calm down, pretty warrior... ain’t gonna hurt ya." Riddick shifted until he was held between the smooth, strong thighs, rocking his groin provocatively against the man beneath him.

Vaako bit back a moan.

"Yeah, feels good, don’t it, baby?"

"Baby?!" Vaako gasped out, a little too out of it to be angry.

Riddick chuckled. "Yeah, baby, pretty baby... c’mon, been hard too long, has to hurt?"

Vaako blinked again, and realized the man was right. He ached, badly, with the need to climax.

Also, with the need to smack that smirk off of Riddick’s face.

Another roll of the other man’s hips distracted him; he gasped and arched up again, pressing himself against the man’s firm body.

"Oh, yeah... that’s the way to do it..." Then one of those big, warm hands wrapped around them both, pressing their shafts together, stroking them hard. Vaako felt like his eyes were going to leap out of his head at the sensation, felt his climax gathering in him like streaks of lightening shooting down his spine.

Riddick could apparently tell. "Mmm... c’mon, pretty warrior. Come with me." The strokes intensified, pressing harder against sensitive flesh, precome making it easy for Riddick’s hand to slide up and down and Vaako couldn’t take it anymore.

He came, violently, and Riddick was half a heartbeat behind him.

 

 

*

 

 

A tiny figure floated out of the rains, approaching the small shack silently. Long dark hair drifted over the small face, framing big black eyes.

The childish form slipped up to a support post and peered around it, taking in the scene beneath the house.

Two men sat next to a fire, one cradled possessively against the other’s chest, tucked between his legs and as close to his body as possible. The smaller man’s hands were tied, and his eyes were sleepy.

The bigger man had one arm firmly around him, the other hand lifting bits of fish from a cooling pan and feeding himself and his captive.

Both men looked like fighters, well-trained and usually alert to their surroundings, to eyes that might be watching them -

\- yet neither seemed to sense the child that had approached, was spying on them from the edge of the gathering darkeness.

When one’s silver-bright eyes flickered around, habitually checking for any sort of danger, they slid right over the shadowy little figure.

The child smiled, and retreated slowly, keeping its eyes fixed on those two until the rain hid them from view.

This was interesting.

Very interesting.

So he had a mate, after all? Good - he shouldn’t be alone. He had been lonely for too many weeks.

He was too special to be allowed to suffer in any way.

Ever again.

The little form moved toward the next house, ready to see what its inhabitants were doing.

...but it would be coming back here, soon.

Her Ulahna’soqua might need her.

 

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

 

 

They slept by the fire that night - it was warm, and the rain was cold.

Besides, Vaako was fairly certain that even if they did go up to the shack, his hammock-style bed would never support Riddick’s weight. Certainly not Riddick’s  _and_  his.

And the Lord Marshal showed no intentions of letting him go.

Not any time soon.

So they’d fallen asleep, relaxed after their mutual orgasm, even though Vaako wished his hands had been free. It wasn’t like he was going to run - Riddick hadn’t exactly  _hurt_  him, and now that he’d thought about it, there was no way on the planet he was going to hide among the innocent natives and bring the wrath of this man down on them.

He wasn’t sure his Galatsadi would survive that.

So he slept, Riddick a warm presence at his back, his stomach full of well-cooked fish and his mind surprisingly free of turmoil. There was nothing he could do tonight, not with these unbreakable bonds on his wrists and an iron bar of an arm wrapped around his middle. Vaako had never been one to pace all night worrying, anyway. Troubles were bad enough in the light of morning, no sense in losing needed rest going over and over them.

So he slept.

 

 

*

 

 

When he woke, the fire had died to ashes, the remainder of the freshly-cooked fish was gone.

Pale dawn light was straggling through the clouds.

The rain seemed to have stopped for a moment, but if his vague memories were correct, it wouldn’t be for long.

And a big, warm hand was stroking his chest and stomach, occasionally toying with a nipple or drawing a tickling circle around his belly-button.

Vaako was very proud of himself for not yelping, even when Riddick shifted and he felt something hot and hard pressing against the curve of his ass.

"Morning, pretty warrior," the gravelly voice said, and the exploring hand slid up to his chin and tugged his face around.

Then he was being devoured in another kiss.

It was just as mind-numbing as it had been before.

After a moment, Riddick pulled away, licking his lips like he was savoring some elusive taste. He didn’t say anything else, just stayed leaning over Vaako’s side, sliding his hand back down to stroke at an erection Vaako hadn’t realized he had.

Well, it was morning, and he was male, so why was he so surprised?

 

 

*

 

 

Riddick kept his touches purposefully light, going just for sensation, not for any real friction at all.

Last night had been good, but it had gone a little faster than he had intended.

This morning, he planned to take his own sweet time.

And if that meant torturing Vaako, than so be it.

Wasn’t like that wouldn’t be fun!

He ran his fingers lightly around the head of Vaako’s cock, just enjoying the texture under this fingertips; enjoying the fine, minute trembling that had set itself up in the lithe, strong body in his arms. He slid his other hand down Vaako’s flat stomach, past his erection, to cup his balls, rolling them gently in his palm. He lowered his mouth to lick at the round Necromonger scar closest to him, smirking when Vaako shuddered.

"You like this?" he whispered, ghosting his fingers down the hot, silky shaft.

Vaako’s jaw muscles clenched tight, and he didn’t reply.

Riddick laughed, pressing his own cock firmly against Vaako’s gorgeous backside, enjoying the firm muscles and silky soft skin against him as he continued to torment the man. He changed from light touches to delicate stroking, the hand on the other man’s sac drifting back to rub at that lovely little sensitive patch of skin just behind. Vaako’s whole body went tense with the effort it took not to arch, and Riddick laughed again.

His pretty warrior was a lot of fun.

He bent back to mouth the mark and the sensitive skin around it; this time Vaako  _did_  arch, and made a faint keening noise. He smiled wolfishly against the man’s throat and continued to torment his neck while his hands continued to thoroughly molest him. He’d been looking for Vaako for so long, waiting to do this for so long...

He didn’t think he could ever get enough of touching the man.

And it certainly wasn’t like Vaako  _minded_ , the man’s eyes were hazy with bliss and he was beginning to thrust against Riddick’s hand. The Lord Marshal allowed his touch to become a little firmer, making a loose tunnel with his fingers for Vaako to move against. His other hand moved up to tease and roll two pretty nipples, while his own hips began to thrust against the other man. His cock was steadily leaking precome by now, incredibly turned on by the tiny noises Vaako was making. It slid easily against the cleft of that taut ass, in mimicry of what he planned to do later.

Just had to get his warrior calmed down a bit - he hadn’t missed the way the man froze last night, when he’d moved those lovely thighs apart. He had no problem with waiting, not as long as he could play like this.

And there were  _plenty_  of other ways to play, too, without actual penetration. He’d just gentle his pretty new mate down a bit, then they could have some fun!

 

 

*

 

 

There was some relief, in retrospect, in knowing that his climax hadn’t hit him nearly as quickly as it had the night before. That had been rather embarrassing.

Then again, it was probably only slower this morning because Riddick had teased him for so long, without giving him any real friction to work with.

It had been a vast, unspeakable relief when the man’s touches had finally become firm, and he’d been allowed to move more easily against that big, warm hand. He’d come fairly quickly after that, and felt an echoing surge of wet warmth against his back as Riddick followed him.

Then they’d gone back to sleep.

It wasn’t like there was anything else to do - it had started raining again.

Not a thunderstorm, this time, but a heavy, silent downpour. Perfect sleeping weather.

When he woke up, Riddick had cleaned them both up and stirred up the fire. He was warming some smoked fish and had retrieved his duffle bag from the hut.

And Vaako’s hands were free.

His first instinct had been to get up and run, but even as his muscles tensed for flight, Riddick had leveled a  _look_  at him.

Vaako had stayed right where he was.

That earned him a grin.

He’d half-expected to be patted and called a good boy, but luckily for Riddick, the man didn’t take it that far. He’d just offered a piece of warm fish. When Vaako reached out to take it, the bigger man caught his wrist and gently tugged him over, settling him in place between his legs, just like he had the night before.

Apparently, he was destined to spend his future meals leaning against Riddick’s broad chest while he ate.

And even though the man had washed them both off, he had neglected to put any clothes on himself or his captive.

Vaako was distracted from eating for a few minutes at the discovery of how very  _warm_  all that smooth, exposed skin was. The rain had turned the air cold, and the fire wasn’t quite enough to keep him comfortable in his present naked state, but Riddick radiated heat like the man had lava in his veins instead of blood.

It made things much more comfortable - except that they were naked.

That made Vaako a lot less comfortable.

And mightily confused at his body’s reaction to both warmth and nudity.

Riddick, of course, didn’t seem perturbed at all. He just munched his fish and some of the fresh fruit that had been stored upstairs, feeding Vaako small bites as he went. That was odd, because he had his own food, but then he realized that Riddick was taking advantage of feeding him to trace his lips with his fingers, and rolled his eyes.

Riddick snickered behind him; apparently he knew - and could care less - that he’d been found out.

They finished the meal in relative silence, then Riddick pulled his bag over, fished in it for a moment, and dropped something flat and hard in Vaako’s hand.

"Dessert," he rumbled, "I was told you liked those."

Vaako stared down at the bar of dark chocolate.

For the first time in days, he smiled.

 

 

*

 

 

Oh, yeah, if he ever went back to leading the Necros, he was giving Heliz some big-ass reward! He’d raised an eyebrow when, during one of many interrogations over exactly what Vaako did and liked and how he acted, the Commander had told him of the man’s fondness for chocolate. He’d been a little doubtful, but had taken some of the sweets with him, anyway.

That smile was worth the trouble he’d taken to make sure the stuff didn’t melt.

So was the way Vaako’s eyes drifted closed when he took the first tiny nibble.

This man could turn him on just by  _breathing_.

He tightened his arms around his waist and dropped his head to nuzzle at a sun-bronzed shoulder. "You like that, huh?" he whispered hoarsely.

Vaako nodded, not paying much attention to what Riddick was doing while he savored his favorite treat. "I do. Thank you."

"Mmm. What are these?" Riddick’s fingers trailed down over the new tattoos on his arm, then moved to stroke the old ones around his waist.

"Oh - they’re tribal marks. They tell who my family is - when and where I was born."

"And the new ones?"

"I’m not sure what they say. I think that they show that I was taken from here, and then returned."

"So they put your life story on you in ink, huh?"

"Basically." Vaako shifted slightly - Riddick’s fingers were stroking low on his stomach now, up and down the fine trail of hair that led toward his groin. It was starting to make him - interested.

Riddick jerked suddenly, grabbing up a blanket and wrapping it around them both with lightening speed. Vaako’s head came up sharply, searching for the cause behind the sudden modesty, and saw movement at the edge of the forest.

They waited, watching carefully, though Vaako knew it wasn’t going to be anything dangerous. The only things left on this planet were peaceful natives and some mild-mannered goats.

After a minute or so, a tiny girl came out of the darkness, running across the open space quickly, a broad leaf held over her head to avoid the worst of the rain. She was still soaked to the bone and panting softly by the time she reached the shelter of the shack.

Vaako recognized her as the child who had given him the bracelet, before. He spoke to her, carefully sounding out a greeting.

She only smiled at him in return, remaining silent. Her big, liquid dark eyes shifted to Riddick, and the smile grew wider. Then she took something from the pocket of her ragged dress and held it out to the man.

It was a bracelet, like Vaako’s, made of tiny shells and the precious, precious leather. Riddick looked faintly puzzled, silver eyes wary as he reached out. She dropped the primitive jewelry into his broad palm and then she was gone, running back out into the driving rain.

"What was that all about?" Riddick grumbled, examining the bit of leather.

"I’m not sure. She gave me one, too. See?" He held up his arm. "It may be some ritual that I don’t remember. Bracelets like this are treasured here, because leather is so rare."

"Mine’s different."

"What?"

"It’s different. Different shells, and yours has two shells together, then bare leather. Mine is one shell, then leather, then another shell."

"I doubt if it means anything," Vaako replied, but he wasn’t quite certain that was true. Something was nagging at him, some memory, but he couldn’t quite pin it down.

Ah, well. It would come to him.

Riddick brought his other arm further around Vaako, and started to tie the bracelet onto his right arm.

"No!" Vaako said, snatching it out of his hand, and then his nimble fingers were placing it around the man’s left wrist, knotting the leather firmly.

"What?" Riddick asked, bemused.

"You don’t put anything around your right wrist here - the others have to be able to see that."

"Why?"

Vaako flushed slightly. "It’s for the tattoos. I do remember that much - when you’re mated, they mark your right wrist with very small symbols. Covering your wrist so no one can tell if you’re mated is an insult."

"Huh," Riddick said, and then his fingers wrapped around Vaako’s right arm, his thumb rubbing over the delicate skin of his inner wrist. "So who does the tattoos? You don’t do them yourself, if you don’t know what the pretty pictures mean."

"No - there’s an old woman who shows up to work on them. They go around your waist, on your right arm, and on the inside and outside of your right leg."

"And around your wrist."

Vaako nodded. "And around your ankle, when and if you have children. A ring of symbols for each child."

Riddick made a sound of acknowledgment, but his attention had become diverted. He’d reached to touch Vaako’s thigh when the man mentioned leg tattoos, and now his hand was stroking the sensitive inner thigh with deliberate, meaningful touches.

"Wanna have a little more fun?"

Vaako hesitated, but the man hadn’t hurt him - and he had to admit, it  _was_  fun.

And it wasn’t like there was anything else to do.

 

 

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

Lady Wulia, formerly Lady Vaako, was not happy.

Very, very not happy.

First, she lost her husband. Not a big loss - or she didn’t think so when it happened - but now she was beginning to get questions and comments and sneers from the other Necromonger nobility. It was Riddick’s fault; if he’d taken her for his Consort like he should have, they would never have dared ask where Vaako had vanished to.

Everyone knew Riddick hadn’t killed him - there would have been a vid-movie of it somewhere. The whole ship was covered with cameras, one could barely find six inches that would grant you some privacy. Besides, the Lord Marshal would have no reason to cover up killing Vaako, even if he’d just shot him instead of fighting him. The man could do as he pleased; he was the supreme ruler of everything. If he ordered someone to stop breathing, they would.

Well - if they were a truly loyal Necromonger, they would. Most of the nobility would disobey, though they wouldn’t admit that aloud.

And all this was beside the point - Wulia was beginning to be teased about being unable to keep her husband. Her restored marriage necklace was, of necessity, in plain view around her throat, and the fact that Vaako was nowhere to be seen made everyone assume he was avoiding her. Instead of begging to have her back, like he should have been if she had divorced him - that was the rumor she’d started, but no one believed it anymore.

And it was all Vaako’s fault.

For the first time in weeks, Wulia wondered where her husband had vanished to. Perhaps it was time that she took advantage of her numerous contacts, and retrieved some vids to watch. If she didn’t see her husband die, at least she would discover where he was hiding.

 

 

*

 

 

The rain was still heavy, but it was softer today - gentler.

Enough that Vaako decided he wanted a swim, in one of the thermally warmed pools that lay hidden beyond the trees. Riddick was asleep, lulled by the constant beating tempo of the raindrops - Vaako had been at the fire, heating water for a quick wash that would only get him half clean, when he decided that the rain was soft enough to risk slipping out and running through the woods.

Riddick had been giving him more freedom - almost three days had passed, after all, and Vaako hadn’t tried to get away. If he was lucky, he could have his bath and be back before the man awoke. No matter how familiar the Lord Marshal had become with his body, he had no desire to swim naked in front of him.

That was just _asking_ for trouble.

...not that Vaako wasn’t enjoying the ‘trouble’ - but a man had to have some standards, damn it!

He got up and eased across the beneath-house space - the ‘eladi’, he remembered it being called - over to one of the support poles, where he retrieved a bag with some small cloths and pieces of soap. There was no need to take a towel - he’d be an idiot if he tried to dry off in this rain!

He spared one quick look at the sleeping face, then he was hurrying through the steady downpour toward the warm pool closest to his shack.

Behind him, silver eyes opened and glittered as they watched the man vanish into the trees.

 

 

*

 

 

“What dates do you desire?” The tech looked at Lady Wulia with an expression that screamed boredom.

She sniffed. How dare this lowly creature treat her so? “I wish all the vids of Level Five, on the day we received our new Lord Marshal. I wish them without the slightest delay, so off with you!”

The tech didn’t budge. “Your request is noted and will be added to our list. The discs will be delivered to your quarters as soon as they are ready. Good day.” He closed the little window on the door of Archives, leaving Lady Wulia fuming in the hall.

How _dare_ he treat her like that?! She should have gotten his name - there was certain to be someone in the hierarchy above him who owed her a favor or who could be entranced into doing as she desired. She’d have him punished for his insolence.

She turned on her little gold-clad heel and stalked down the hall, if such a swaying, seductive walk could be called stalking. She smiled sweetly at everyone she passed - one never knew when some new conquest could be made.

She stopped outside the chambers of the temporary Lady Marshal. Really, she would have thought Lord Riddick would have better taste then to leave that meddling Elemental in charge of their glorious race! She had not even earned herself a place among the Necromongers - Wulia doubted if she’d ever killed anyone in all her long life!

Arranging her features in her most winning, trust-me expression, she knocked on the door.

 

 

*

 

 

Bliss.

There was nothing quite so nice as languishing about in warm water, rubbing handfuls of slick, soapy bubbles across heated skin, soothing away the constant scratch of the sand that covered everything on Galatsadi.

When he’d still been a Necromonger, he’d had little use for such creature comforts. Now that he was home, he was almost ashamed to be reverting to such hedonism.

Not ashamed enough, though, to climb out of the soothing water for a brisk, cold rain-shower. He shuddered at the very thought. The hot, steamy air around the pool turned the falling rain from icy to deliciously heated - but five steps away, and it was back to cool.

No, he’d stay here in the warm water, and when he went back to the house he’d search out some of those bits of vegetables he’d saved back, and make stew to go along with the baked fish. They hadn’t eaten anything green in several days; a case of scurvy wasn’t exactly something to look forward to. He still had half of his chocolate bar left, too - Riddick hadn’t touched it yet, and he wondered if the man even liked chocolate or if he was purposefully saving it all for him.

Wrapped up in his thoughts and the slow movements of the soapy cloth, lulled by the steady sound of falling rain and the massage of the raindrops hitting his shoulders, he never heard anyone else enter the water. He nearly leapt out of his skin when strong arms slid around him.

“Been keeping secrets, pretty warrior. Didn’t know this was here.”

“I ...forgot about it,” Vaako nearly stuttered, his heart still racing with surprise.

“Mmm. Glad you remembered. Nice.”

Vaako nodded helplessly as the big hands took the soap and washcloth from him, taking over the slow cleansing of his body.

 

 

*

 

 

“I just thought, perhaps, if you had any questions, or anything I could help you with...” Wulia took another of the tiny cookies that had magically appeared, along with tea, three minutes after the Lady Marshal invited her to sit down.

Aereon looked mildly amused. “I’m sure I appreciate the thought, but I have no questions.”

“None at _all?”_   Wulia managed to make the question sound rebuking, as if the Elemental couldn’t be doing a good job if she had nothing to ask.

She just got a repeat of that condescendingly amused little smile. “No, none at all.”

“But our race is so very complicated, I’m sure that there must be...”

“There’s a planet in the Crissania Galaxy,” Aereon interrupted smoothly, “where every word has seventeen different meanings, and using the wrong word in the wrong context is punishable by death. Turning your head a certain way is punishable by flogging, unless turning it that way is required. Then the offense is punishable by having your feet amputated. There are days when it is illegal to walk on certain sides of the street unless your name begins with the letter ‘V’ and has the ending ‘ly’. They have a list of rules of conduct that takes up seventeen large libraries. I mastered the intricacies of their race by my twelfth year. The Necromongers could be managed by a newborn Elemental.”

Wulia stared at her, speechless with rage.

For a moment, anyway, then she forced words past the furious panting of her breath, “How _dare_ you...”

Aereon looked even more amused. “Lady Wulia - perhaps you’d like to try to control yourself? More tea?”

 

 

*

 

 

Vaako wasn’t sure how he had ended up like this - flat on his back on one of the smooth stones that lined the pool, legs spread with Riddick between them, warm steam from the pool mixing with the coolness of the air, cold stone against his back and hot mouth around his cock until his body was so confused that it didn’t know what it was feeling.

Not that he wasn’t _enjoying_ that confusion... it was just odd.

Riddick shifted, silver eyes shining up at him. “You’re thinking again,” he said softly, the gentle stir of his breath oddly cool against Vaako’s shaft.

The other man blinked down at him. “I’ll stop,” he said beseechingly. Anything to get that mouth back on him.

Riddick snickered, which felt pretty interesting in its own way, and moved up to hover over him. Vaako fought back a whimper, which made the man grin, evil person that he was. “Pretty warrior... will you let me?”

“Let you what?” Vaako frowned, uncertain.

Riddick’s hand slid between his legs, but didn’t linger where it usually did. It moved further back, until a surprisingly gentle fingertip was circling a place no one else had touched since he could remember. Vaako stared up at him in shock and no small amount of fear, though he tried to hide the last. “I... I...”

“Won’t hurt you.” The words were whispered as Riddick draped his body over the slightly smaller body beneath him, his skin heated even beyond its normal blazing temperature by the hot spring water. “It’ll feel good, I promise. Stop, if you tell me to.” He thrust shallowly against Vaako’s groin and the man moaned, nodding before he thought.

Riddick smiled again - with a disconcerting lack of smugness. The hand between his legs retreated, and came back slick, with the slippery native soap coating his fingers. Vaako scarcely had time to blink before one of those fingers was pressing against him, sliding inside more easily than he would have expected. “Stay relaxed,” Riddick whispered, “and it won’t hurt.”

Vaako let out a silent sigh and forced himself to obey. He really hoped the man knew what he was doing.

 

 

*

 

 

Wulia had forcibly restrained the acid words that wanted to drip off of her tongue. This woman was in complete control of their race at the moment - wether she deserved to be or not - and it wouldn’t be wise to get on her bad side. She’d just have to wait and complain over her rudeness to Lord Riddick. When the man came back as a proper Holy Half-Dead, he’d be certain to punish the meddling Elemental for disparaging their wondrous Necromongers!

For now, though, a bit of sucking-up was in order.

“I’m sorry,” she said sweetly, reaching out to take one of the little iced cakes, “I forgot, Lady Marshal, that you come from such a wise and advanced race.”

Aereon gave her another amused look, and didn’t reply. She sipped her tea quietly, looking wrapped up in thought and rather far away.

Time to move on to her main purpose for this visit. Wulia swallowed the dainty bite she had taken. “My Lady - could you tell me when the Lord Marshal will return?”

“Once he has completed his goals, I suppose,” Aereon replied absently, sipping her tea again.

“Oh?” Wulia bit down on her irritation. “And those goals are...?”

Aereon made a vague gesture with her hand. “Just the usual, I suppose. This is lovely tea, I’ll have to order it more often.”

Wulia very nearly growled. Was the woman being purposefully annoying? She wanted to leave, but she wouldn’t go yet. There had to be some information she could pry out of her - and anyway, those vids wouldn’t be at her chambers yet. If this visit _was_ a complete waste of her time, she still might be able to get some information from them.

At the very least, she’d know where her pesky husband had gotten off to.

 

 

*

 

 

Damned if it _didn’t_ hurt, but it was nothing like what he’d been expecting, nothing like the whispers he’d heard in the dark, when he’d been a new convert and terrified of some older soldier using his body like this. Riddick had been careful; there had been a lot more than the so- called ‘required’ three fingers he’d also heard whispered of by the time the man was done preparing him. He’d been a bit too out of it - thanks to something the Lord Marshal laughingly called a ‘sweet spot’ - by the time he felt the fingers removed and something larger ready to take their place.

Words whispered in his ear, ‘relax’ and ‘push out’, and then he’d felt connected to someone in a way he’d _never_ felt before, and wondered why he’d ever been so frightened of this. So what if it hurt a little? The pleasure far outweighed the pain.

Especially when Riddick started thrusting.

The purring the man was doing was nice, too - Vaako could feel it, vibrating against him and inside him. It was nice - if nice was the right word for the way his heart jumped and his skin tingled.

“You feel so good,” Riddick growled the words next to his ear and Vaako’s heart gave one of those odd leaps again.

“Tight...” the word was whispered almost in awe.

Vaako had to bite his lip to keep from coming, to distract himself with the pain. Uncertain, still and not sure who was supposed to come first or even if it mattered. Riddick moved so quickly his eyes could barely follow, slanting his mouth over Vaako’s, his tongue prying the bitten lip from between Vaako’s teeth and pulling it into his own mouth, sucking it lightly for just a second.

“Don’t do that.” A clear, certain order.

“What?”

“Hurt yourself like that - I don’t want you to hurt yourself. At all. Understand?”

A memory from earlier flickered through Vaako’s mind - the pain in his arms as he yanked at the impervious bonds, and Riddick’s voice growling, ‘ _Stop that, you’re gonna hurt yourself._ ’ He wanted, suddenly, to ask why the man was so worried over a little pain, not even serious pain... but...

...but Riddick started thrusting, hard, not the shallow, gentle motion he’d started with. Lights exploded behind Vaako’s eyes and he instantly forgot the question. He was captured by the sizzling electricity that raced through his body, sparked by those lights, by the incredible sensations inside him. Caught by the rumbling growl that came from the body above him, almost a feline purr. Held prisoner by the weight of a body that wanted him, by the heat of skin that desired to be pressed against his skin.

...had he ever been wanted like this?

No.

Never.

And he knew, suddenly, that he wanted this man in return. That thought brought his hands up for the first time, wrapped his arms around Riddick for the first time, forgot about the pet names and the control and the embarrassment of being tied up so easily for the first time since Riddick’s hands had closed around his wrists, and it was that thought that yanked his climax from him so suddenly that it almost hurt. He screamed, back arching so far he was certain he heard his spine crack.

Above him, Riddick let out a roar, and then there was hot, scalding liquid burning him in the best sort of way...

...then the soft warmth of the water, feeling almost cold after all that heat. Big arms around him, and a sleepy purring-noise from the broad chest. Movement, until they were braced against the wall at the shallow end of the pool, and a moment of languid motion until they were settled into a comfortable position.

Then sleep.

 

 

 

 

Language note: Eladi - means ‘below’


	9. Chapter 9

9

 

 

Hours melted into days; into weeks.

After the first month, the bitterly cold rains drenching Galatsadi eased, and warmer showers took their place. No less heavy, they were still much preferred. If one didn’t mind staying permanently wet, it was even possible to go out, to explore the island in search of the tiny, luscious little berries that only grew during the rainy season. They made a welcome change in a diet already growing dreary; especially with the games Riddick played with them.

The man had _far too much_ imagination.

Galatsadi’s elderly tattoo artist showed up about a week after the rains softened, two women with her this time. They held an old tarp carefully above her head, making sure she stayed as dry as possible. They seemed astonished to find Riddick there, but the old one just smiled a sly smile and motioned to Vaako to come to her.

He obeyed, and she took out her primitive instruments, then cleaned a spot high on his right leg. He and Riddick were both wearing loose shorts, luckily, since Riddick had seemed to sense someone was coming and dug out some clothes. Most of the time, he preferred Vaako to be naked.

Much to the former Necromonger’s disgust - though Vaako made no objections at all to  _Riddick_  remaining nude.

The big man immediately moved close as she began to work, ignoring the females who fluttered around him, apparently trying to get him to leave. His sharp silver eyes watched every move the old woman made, even though he was lounging casually on his side, stretched out like a big cat and apparently completely unconcerned.

She wasn’t fooled. She let her bright old eyes slip over both of the beautiful male bodies, then made a comment that, while they couldn’t understand her words, they couldn’t  _not_  understand her meaning.

Especially with the way the two other women blushed and scolded her.

She just cackled at them, waving a hand in an airy, very youthful gesture, and then bent back over her work. She had the simple black runes traced from the edge of Vaako’s hip to his knee before she sat back, smoothing a clear healing gel over the red, swollen skin. Vaako knew she would wait for that to heal before she went further. He wondered if she would come back more quickly this time - usually she gave him only a week or two between visits, never a month.

He wished he had a way to ask her. He really needed to learn more of the language, but the villagers still kept their distance from him, giving him no more than smiles and greetings.

The artist cleaned her crude needle carefully, then turned to Riddick and motioned him closer. The big man obeyed warily, listening as she jabbered at him and made motions toward his waist.

"I think she wants to mark you," Vaako finally said.

"I’m not a native," Riddick replied, looking surprised.

Vaako felt something warm and happy spread through his chest, and he fought to keep it off his face. "I think - I think it means Galatsadi is accepting you. She is adopting you as her own."

Riddick stared at him. "Her name is Galatsadi too, like the planet?"

"No, I’m talking about the planet herself."

"Planets aren’t alive."

Vaako just smiled at him. "Will you let her?"

Riddick paused, then shrugged, grinning at him. "Why not? You look all pretty with ‘em, won’t mind some of my own. She’s gonna have trouble with my life story, though; I don’t understand a word she’s bleating."

"She’s a seer, I think. I don’t remember clearly, but... no one ever has to tell the Artist anything. She just... knows."

"Your planet’s really weird, pretty warrior," Riddick chuckled, obeying the old woman’s gestures and stretching out on his stomach.

Vaako rolled his eyes. He’d stopped telling Riddick not to call him that about two weeks ago. It was just a waste of his breath. He started to move closer, instinctively copying Riddick’s watchful pose, when one of the women drew in a sudden sharp breath. He looked up to see her staring at the leather bracelet on Riddick’s arm.

Her reaction caused the other woman to look, and they started speaking rapidly, their voices tense.

The Artist just kept working, but Vaako noticed another of those sly little smiles curving her lips.

The women turned on him, forcing their voices to slow, obviously asking him something. He caught the word ‘where’, and from the way the pointed at the bracelet, he gathered they were asking where it came from.

"Um... ust...usti ...usti agaucha...?" Little girl - he was fairly certain those were the right words.

Whatever he had said, it just made the women more excited. They were nearly bouncing around the eladi, faces wreathed with smiles.

"What’s going on?" Riddick asked, raising his head so he could watch them.

"I have no idea," Vaako replied, completely puzzled. "Something about the bracelet, but I don’t know what."

He sat down beside Riddick, watching while six perfect runes were inked onto his back. The Artist followed his natural waistline, placing the runes just beneath it, where they would be covered by his regular leathers but easy to see if he wore the native-style low-waist cloth pants. It took well over an hour; after a while he got out some of the dried fish that had been seasoned with wild herbs, and offered it to the women. They refused, but the Artist took a small piece and chewed it slowly while she worked.

When she was finished, she sat back and began packing away her tools. Riddick, who had been drawing squiggles in the sand, rolled swiftly and caught her arm. The other women jumped, looking worried, but stayed back when the Artist glared at them. She gave Riddick a questioning look.

He grinned, his shining eyes darting to Vaako for a second, then touched the old, faded mating marks on her wrist. "What are these?" he asked, pretending to be puzzled.

She seemed to understand the question - and the motives behind it. She looked from Riddick, who was still grinning, to Vaako, who was beginning to turn red and looked like he wanted to run.

She laughed, loud and long.

"What are you  _doing_?" Vaako hissed, wondering if he could get away with punching the man.

"Getting what I want," Riddick replied blithely. He helped the Artist up and she cackled at him, patting his cheek and delivering a rapid-fire litany of words. The two women who had come with her and who were now standing by with the tarp, started giggling, peeking at Vaako from under dark eyelashes.

He gave serious thought to bashing Riddick’s head against one of the support poles.

 

*

 

Lady Wulia sat back from her view screen, her eyes narrowed.

So, the reason she had been unable to find Vaako seemed to be because he had left. He had managed to escape the ship without so much as a ripple in the Necromonger elite - everyone just assumed he was off somewhere else, avoiding the new Lord Marshal. No one would have thought he was gone, because no one would have dreamed it was possible. One left the Necromongers one way and only one way.

Through death.

This was completely unacceptable, she decided. Vaako had abandoned her without so much as a goodbye - or a nice public scene of her renouncing him. He had also robbed the Lord Marshal of any revenge the man might have wanted to take.

She sat up straight, eyes widening. That was the key to getting in Lord Riddick’s good graces - she would retrieve her husband from that little backwater planet he had once told her about, when she’d asked what he had been before the glory of the Necromonger race swallowed him up. That whispered word had been familiar enough, too; he sometimes murmured it in his sleep when he was utterly exhausted, and she’d demanded to know what it meant. That was how she had learned both of the names for his planet, Galatsadi and Beach.

That should make it easy enough to locate.

Then she would find him, get some of her consorts to force him on board a ship and drag him back here to throw at the Lord Marshal’s feet, a gift for his pleasure. She wouldn’t mind watching Vaako bleed to death, not after the insults and sneers she’d been dealing with lately. He deserved to be tortured - the slower, the better.

Of course, she’d have to wait until Lord Riddick returned... she’d never gotten a firm answer from Aereon as to when he was expected back. Perhaps she should find out exactly when and how he had left - they had tracers to follow the streams left by starships. From what she had gathered - not that she’d ever really paid much attention - every ship left its own distinctive trail. It shouldn’t be that much trouble to find out where he went.

He might like it even better if she brought him a captive to make a boring pilgrimage more... entertaining.

Yes, that was what she would do! and he would be so grateful!

She’d be his High Consort in no time!

 

*

 

"Lady Marshal?"

"Yes?" Aereon looked up from the data pad she was studying as Heliz’ polite voice interrupted the silence of the room.

"Forgive the intrusion, My Lady, but I’ve had an odd report from the Overseer of Transport."

"Is something wrong?"

"I am not certain. It seems Lady Wulia has requested a ship to take her on a Pilgrimage of Solitude - nobles often do this, but Wulia has never been one of them. She follows the Religion in word, but seldom in deed. She has also requested a Tracer."

"A starship Tracer?" Aereon asked sharply.

"Yes, my Lady."

"Dear me, that creature  _is_  up to something..." she paused, looking thoughtful. "I would hazard a guess that she is trying to follow the Lord Marshal. Does this seem likely to you, Heliz? You have known her a long time, I think."

"Yes, I have. It seems to me that it is  _exactly_  what she is doing. All the court knows she is desperate to be named his High Consort, especially after Vaako’s open desertion."

"There was a wise man," Aereon said, smiling a little.

Heliz nodded. "Very wise. Lord Vaako was a - comrade of mine - for years. Lady... do you know what happened to him? He is not... not dead, is he?"

She shook her head. "As far as I know, he lives."

"Should we stop Wulia?" Heliz hid his relief in the question.

Aereon looked thoughtful. "No... no, let her go. I would have you take another ship, and follow her. Prevent her from disturbing the Lord Marshal in any way - do you understand?"

"Yes, my Lady."

"You have a replacement you can trust, to attend your duties?"

He nodded. "Lord Barre. He will be more than adequate."

"Good. Make an excuse to bring him by before you go, so I can meet him. And tell Transport to delay Lady Wulia until you are set to follow her."

"It will be done," Heliz promised, and left the room.

 

*

 

"Damn thing itches."

"They usually do."

"How do you put up with it?"

"It fades. I can put some more of the healing oil on it for you?"

"Yeah, that’d be good."

"Turn over, then."

"Damn, that feels better."

"I thought it might."

"Want me to put some on yours?"

"I can reach my own leg, thank you."

"Don’t be snotty, pretty warrior. Give me the oil."

 "Pushy."

"I know."

"Mmm..."

"See? Feels better if someone else does it for you."

"I guess... er... Riddick?"

"Yeah?"

"That’s not my leg!"

"I know."

"... _damn_  pushy..."

"You like it."

"..."

Riddick laughed, and pushed his warrior to the ground.

No sense in wasting a nice handful of oil.

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy... uh, day after Christmas!  
> Last chapter of this one; maybe I'll finally start back up working on the sequel XD

10

 

The rain just kept coming down, down.

Vaako stood at the edge of the hut’s small porch, watching the roiling ocean waves. They were a  
lot closer to the little shack than they had been; it would only be two or three days before they  
couldn’t use the eladi anymore. It was already too swampy and uncomfortable to sleep down  
there. They’d had to retreat to the dark interior of the hut.

Not that Riddick had minded. No, he’d _enjoyed_ the transition from the dim twilight to the darker  
shadows. Switched from games with berries to games that included pouncing on his warrior  
from the dark corners of the shack.

Vaako smiled slightly as his eyes studied the clouds, trying to judge what the day’s weather was  
going to be like. Heavy rain or moderate? Icy or warm? Windy or calm? There weren’t a  
whole lot of choices.

He wondered faintly at himself for the smile - at first he’d found Riddick a puzzle, an irritant, a  
source of shocking pleasure and more than a little fear. As the days continued in their  
unchanging cycle, though, he had begun to relax a little.

Had begun, as odd as it may have sounded, to enjoy having the man there.

Gods only knew the sex was fun!

Not that he planned to _ever_ admit that to Riddick - the man had an ego bigger than the  
Necromonger MotherShip and Vaako didn’t have any desire to add to it.

He leaned a shoulder against the nearest support post and sighed softly. The man was even  
beginning to fit into Galatsadi’s simple little society; his rough edges and blunt manner of  
speaking blending in with surprising ease. He had accepted the tattoos easily enough - the marks  
fully circled his waist now, after three more visits from the Artist.

Vaako’s own tattoos were nearly complete - the full ‘sleeve’, the old waist tattoo, and the new  
marks that ran up and down his leg. The only thing that he’d ever need now was a mating tattoo.

That thought made him blush.

Riddick had taken every available opportunity to hint to the Artist about what he wanted;  
constantly examining her own marks and then looking pointedly at Vaako’s naked wrist;  
studying the marks of the other people who occasionally came with her; bluntly _asking_ her to  
mark them as mates and then laughing as Vaako flushed and argued that she couldn’t understand  
him.

“She will someday,” he’d grinned, “I get what I want, pretty warrior; I _always_ get what I want.”

Vaako blushed harder when he remembered those words. He glanced over his shoulder into the  
dim hut, where Riddick slept, sprawled out in the new, sturdy hammock he’d built for them once  
the eladi became uninhabitable. He’d laughed at the idea that they should just put up another of  
the small, easily made single hammocks - there had been no way he was going to let Vaako sleep  
alone, even if it meant a few days hard work at getting the thing just right.

Vaako was getting used to sleeping plastered against the man.

Riddick didn’t rest - at all - unless Vaako was wrapped up in his arms, pressed tight against his  
chest with his face buried in Riddick’s neck. He usually wrapped a leg around the smaller man’s  
legs, too. It was like he didn’t trust the universe not to snatch him away if he didn’t hang on.

From the little he knew of Riddick’s past, this didn’t really surprise Vaako.

Riddick didn’t let him very far out of his sight when they were awake, either - he never went to  
the hot springs to bathe without Riddick joining him within five minutes; they hunted for fruit  
and vegetables together, went fishing together, and Vaako even found himself joining in a game  
of stalk-the-goat when Riddick declared he was ‘getting rusty’.

Getting rusty at _what_ , Vaako hadn’t asked. He’d been unable to resist the pleading in those silver  
eyes, even though he found the game a bit silly at first.

Who knew Riddick could do what Heliz had once called Puppy Eyes? The man never ceased to  
surprise him.

They sparred together, too, and Vaako found himself becoming a better fighter than he’d ever  
been before, as Riddick pushed him to his limits.

He, in turn, discovered that no one had ever explained strategy to the man. He had his own  
animal cunning - and the gods only knew he was good at that! - but learning of other great wars  
and strategic maneuvers would help anyone. The best use for recorded history was to learn from  
it, after all. Vaako found himself in the position of impromptu teacher, with the most voracious  
student he could have imagined. Riddick pushed him to remember old studies that he hadn’t  
thought about in years.

They got a few more visitors, now, more than just the Artist and her caretakers. The woman who  
Vaako had seen arguing with the Elder that day on the beach, and two girls who were obviously  
her daughters, came at least once a week. They usually brought them some sort of delicacy,  
spices for their food or perhaps a pineapple. They spent most of their time speaking slow, simple  
words to Vaako - finally increasing his vocabulary! - or just gazing at him happily.

He’d expected Riddick to be upset about it, but the man had surprised him by sniffing the air and  
then completely relaxing, even joining the girls in a simple game the native children played with  
shells, seeing who could make the highest stack without it falling over.

“She didn’t smell like she wanted you,” Riddick had replied calmly when Vaako had cautiously  
questioned him later. “She kinda smells like you. Think maybe she’s part of your family?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Vaako said slowly, but he paid a lot more of attention to her after that,  
looking for similarities between her features and what he saw when he looked in a mirror or a  
still pool of water.

The only thing that was really bothering Vaako lately was the names.

The natives had quickly started calling Riddick ‘Dalenaga’, which annoyed him no end until  
Vaako told him they were naming him after his shining eyes. He still didn’t seem to care for it  
much - especially on the rare occasions that Vaako teased him by shortening it to ‘Dally’, but he  
accepted it now.

The woman Vaako was beginning to believe might be his older sister called him, ‘Agaliha.’ That  
name stirred memories in him, of this woman, younger, patting his cheek and smiling at him,  
calling him her little light... so it didn’t bother him that much.

Even when Riddick got revenge by calling him ‘Aggie.’

What _did_ worry him were the other names.

The very respectfully spoken, formal names used in the greetings of all the other natives.

“Uhusti Ayastigi,” they would say to Riddick, bobbing their heads and gazing at him almost in  
awe, and then turn to Vaako. Joy would light up their dark eyes as they said, “Saganoh,” and  
very nearly bowed.

Strong Warrior.

Speaker.

Vaako didn’t understand those names.

It worried him.

Riddick _was_ a warrior, of course, and strong, but his slowly returning memories told him that the  
Uhusti Ayastigi was someone special - more so since there was such a Reverent Name, as they  
were referred to, on a planet that _had_ no warriors.

As for the Saganoh - the Speaker, as they referred to him - he didn’t remember what that was,  
yet.

He was also quite certain that when he found out, he wasn’t going to like it.

“You just _keep_ thinking too hard,” Riddick’s voice grumbled, as arms slid around Vaako’s waist.   
“I can hear your brain working in my sleep. What’s got you all bothered?”

“I was just thinking about those names,” Vaako said quietly.

Riddick buried his face in Vaako’s neck, nuzzling against his skin. “Shouldn’t worry ‘bout it.   
Doubt if it means anything bad; not here.”

“You’re probably right, but I’m still going to try and find out exactly what they mean.”

“Course you are. Wouldn’t be my pretty one if you didn’t.”

Vaako rolled his eyes.

Riddick sniggered, and his hands slid up to brush against Vaako’s nipples. “Cold, rainy day - no  
need to spend it outside, hmm?”

Vaako turned his head to arch an eyebrow at him. “What do you have in mind?”

“What do you _think_ I have in mind?” Riddick purred, and then Vaako gave a surprised yelp as his  
world spun wildly, and he found himself hanging over Riddick’s broad shoulder as the man  
carried him inside the hut.

“What are you doing?!” he demanded huffily, hiding a smile behind his long hair.

Riddick dropped him on the hammock. “You ought ta know by now what I’m doing,” he  
smirked, shedding the loose shorts that were all he had been wearing, then skimming Vaako’s  
clothes off and crawling onto the swaying hammock. He loomed over the smaller man, eyes  
gleaming. “C’mon, wanna guess?”

“I’d say it wasn’t digging roots for dinner,” Vaako teased lightly, shifting ever-so-slightly to  
‘accidentally’ brush a knee against Riddick’s groin.

“I’d say you were right,” Riddick narrowed his eyes at the touch, and abruptly dropped down on  
his warrior, pushing his way between lean thighs and pinning the man in place.

Vaako hummed happily, arching his back to press even tighter against his Dalenaga. “What if  
one of our visitors wanders by?”

“Then they’ll get an eyeful, won’t they?” The man growled. “I don’t care.”

“You wouldn’t... oh!”

Riddick smirked, and stroked Vaako’s cock again. “Do you really care?”

‘ _Not if you keep doing that,_ ’ Vaako thought, but he didn’t say it. He just gave Riddick a half-  
hearted glare.

The big man just guffawed, then bent to devote his mouth to Vaako’s chest, tracing the muscles  
with his tongue and then sucking a nipple into his mouth, setting in to torture the little nub. He  
kept his hands busy between Vaako’s legs, one playing with his shaft and balls while the other  
slid further back, probing at him.

“Impatient,” Vaako croaked, his own hands sliding lightly over Riddick’s arms and back. He’d  
learned that the light, teasing touches drove the man crazy faster than any blatant caress.

“Can’t get enough of you,” Riddick growled with perfect honesty, abandoning his own  
explorations for a moment to snatch the little bottle of oil off the floor beside the bed. “And  
don’t wanna try. Told ya you’d have to get used to it.”

“And I told you,” Vaako moaned slightly as slick fingers slid over his balls, “that you’re a pushy  
bastard.”

“Yeah? But you like it, don’t ya?” Riddick licked the fading Necromonger scar on the left side  
of Vaako’s neck, making the man arch and gasp. “Oh, yeah, you like it.” He pushed the first  
finger inside his mate, loving the warmth that he felt, such a wickedly erotic contrast to Vaako’s  
cool skin. Even tanned brown by the sun, Vaako felt cool to the touch. Probably had something  
to do with being a Necromonger, but Riddick didn’t really care.

He just enjoyed it.

Vaako was enjoying himself too, for a similar reason. Where his own skin was cool, Riddick’s  
was hot - like there were flames burning just under the surface of smooth, light brown flesh. He  
trailed his fingers over Riddick’s chest in light butterfly touches, making the big man shudder  
and shake even as more fingers began probing at him.

“You trying ta finish this before it even gets started?” Riddick demanded, moaning slightly.

“Hmm?” Vaako asked innocently, brushing his fingertips teasingly over pebbled nipples. “What  
are you talking about?”

“I think I’m beginning to rub off on you,” Riddick chuckled, pressing closer to the teasing  
fingers.

“Oh, is _that_ what you call it?”

“Yeah, I’m definitely a bad influence,” Riddick was laughing out loud now - then he pushed  
Vaako’s legs up and pressed into him, distracting them both.

Vaako winced - he always did, just a bit, at first. Riddick was so damn _big;_ even with the man’s  
careful preparation, it wasn’t easy to take him in.

“Shh, shh,” Riddick automatically soothed him, as he held still so Vaako could adjust. “Be all  
right in a minute,” and he bent his head to pull Vaako into a long, leisurely kiss, all lips and  
warmth and tongue and passion.

It did its job, thoroughly distracting the man until his body relaxed, until Riddick could move  
without feeling like he was being squeezed by a vice. He began with long, slow thrusts, knowing  
it was going to drive himself and Vaako insane very quickly, but it felt _so_ damn good.

Vaako gave a hum of pleasure as his prostate was stroked by the big shaft inside of him. This  
was the best part of making love, to him - when the pain faded and the pleasure began, when he  
felt connected to the big man above him in a way impossible to feel at any other time. Even an  
orgasm wasn’t as good as this.

But they _were_ nice, and one was going to happen soon if Riddick didn’t stop shifting and  
pounding his sweet spot dead on! Vaako arched and began to squirm, trying to tell his partner  
that he was close without having to actually make his brain work long enough to speak.

Riddick seemed to pick up on his message, but instead of backing off, he felt a big, hot hand  
wrap around his shaft, squeezing it with just the right amount of roughness to make the little  
bolts of electricity start shooting down his spine, up his legs, wrapping around his balls and  
making him cry out in blissful completion, covering both their stomachs with his come.

“Beautiful,” Riddick whispered in his ear, surging eagerly into his now completely relaxed body.   
“Love to see you come, wanna see it over and over and over...”

Vaako whimpered slightly at his words. “You’re trying to kill me, after all, aren’t you?”

Riddick grinned, white teeth flashing in the shadowed room. “Never.”

Then he dove back down to claim Vaako’s mouth again, and the man beneath him felt the  
burning liquid feeling of his climax inside him. Riddick sighed and relaxed on top of him,  
covering him with his strong, warm body.

Vaako was used to this, and just pressed a little closer. He’d never admit to it, but he enjoyed the  
post-coital cuddling.

The room lightened suddenly, making Riddick’s head come up, lips sliding back from his teeth in  
a silent snarl. Both men turned to stare out the open door, and saw that the sky had gone from  
dark gray and overcast to an odd shade of metallic green.

“What’s going on?” Riddick asked.

Vaako sighed softly, relaxing and pulling Riddick back down. “The regular rainstorms are over  
for a while,” he said, “it’s hurricane season now.”

“...hurricane season?” Riddick arched a brow, staring down at him.

Vaako nodded, smiling a little. “Yes, it’ll still rain, but sometimes you’ll swear it’s raining up  
instead of down... and we’ll have to sleep on the floor, and sometimes the wind will push the  
ceiling down until we can almost use it for a blanket, and we’ll have to stay inside most of the  
time...”

“Oh, yeah?” Riddick actually looked interested. “Huh, guess I’ll have to find a way to occupy  
myself then.” His hand slid up Vaako’s stomach, drawing designs in the cooling puddle of  
semen. “Got any ideas?”

“Not a single one,” Vaako said innocently, loving the way Riddick shook as he laughed against  
him.

“I’ll think of a few, then. I think...” Riddick paused, and his smile became utterly wicked. “I  
think I’m going to _like_ hurricane season.”

 

 

 

*

 

 

 

  
Three Necromonger ships were hovering in orbit over a little planet.

The captain of the lead ship stood at the forward viewing screen, staring at the violently swirling  
clouds that obscured the planet’s surface.

“What’s going on?” asked the honeyed voice of the woman behind him. “We’ve been traveling  
for so long - I’m _tired_ of this ship! Why aren’t we landing?!”

He sighed. He’d been flattered at first, when Lady Wulia had taken up with him, but now he was  
beginning to understand why Lord Vaako had deserted her.

The woman was a pain in the ass.

“We cannot land,” he said, holding on to his normal polite tone by the strictest self-control. “The  
planet is experiencing a storm. Even our exalted ships would be torn apart if we tried to fly  
through that.” He indicated the screen, and the vivid green and black spiraling clouds.

“Oh,” Wulia said reluctantly, “well, I suppose we’ll have to stand by. But I wish to land as soon  
as it clears. The very _instant;_ do you understand me?”

“Yes, my Lady,” he said, still polite, and turned back to his duties.

Wulia kept her eyes on the view screen, a wicked little smile playing around her lovely lips. “I  
know you’re down there, darling husband. And I’ll be seeing you soon.”

Very soon.

 

 

 

~finis Part One~

 

 

To Be Continued in Galatsadi Book Two: Battle

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  
Language notes:

Dalenaga - means ‘silver’  
Ayastigi - means ‘soldier’ or ‘warrior’  
Saganoh - means ‘he who speaks’  
Agaliha - means ‘sunshine’  
Uhusti - means ‘strong’


End file.
